Raging Fires
by craftydevil
Summary: When Christine first meets Erik she never imagined the new path her life would take. Erik himself never imagined where their aquaintance would lead. As they travel down the path of love they will be tested and scarred by the raging fires between them.
1. Alone

**Author's note: Hello to you! If you are just starting to read my story, any day after May 1, 2010, I must warn you. Fan Fiction has changed some of their settings and my story has suffered! I change point of view quite often between Erik and Christine and usually note it by putting their name within some dashes. Fanfiction has now made it impossible to have dashes in your story and has deleted all the dashes in the chapters.**

**Now, when my story changes point of view you will only note it because one name or another will be all by itself to the side like this...**

Erik

**Or like this...**

Christine

**I am pretty certain that every time you see a name in this manner with no period afterwards, it will mean that the story is changing point of view. There are even a few for Nadir and a few of Raoul as well.**

**I apologize for this because it will take a moment to realize the story has changed point of view and it will make the reading of my tale slightly more difficult. I plan to go through and emphasize the names in some other technique that fan fiction will allow, but for now this warning will have to do. I do not have the time most days to even write my next chapter, let alone waste the time it would take to go through all my 50 something chapters and change the 'point of view' change.**

**Thank you for understanding, I hope to solve this issue by the end of May.**

**Keep on reading and Enjoy!**

*Christine*

"Papa?" I queried timidly, knowing deep down I would get no answer. I could see no breath rise and fall in his thin chest though the familiar gentle slackness of his mouth taunted me, as if he were only still peacefully asleep and able to wake. Tears welled in my eyes.

_No_, my heart cried softly breaking into thousands of pieces.

...

I surveyed my surroundings half-heartedly. The room in the dormitory of the Opera Populaire was sufficiently outfitted. I had no reason for the distaste at the sight of the small bed and mirrored powder table, except that they were not the ones I'd grown up with. I put my bag on the ground knowing I was lucky I was taken in. The ballet mistress, Madame Giry, had looked me over appraisingly and asked if I had experience dancing. In Sweden, I'd attended classes as a young girl before my mother died and Papa took to staying home so I nodded politely. I think she took pity on me because without further ado she had whisked me into the back hallways, pointing out this and that before depositing me at my door and leaving me with a curt "Practice begins at 9 sharp!"

I unpacked my meager supply of clothing and stowed it in the closet where I also placed my father's violin. There had been no point in taking his clothes with me but I could never leave his violin. I lovingly traced the worn cracked leather of the case and then shut the door so I would not be reminded of it.

I surveyed the room again. My new home as a dancer for the corps de ballet. Two weeks ago I would have laughed airily at the thought but tonight no laughter bubbled from my throat. I didn't think it was possible for me to laugh anymore. Tears snaked down my face and I kicked off my shoes so I could crawl under the blanket fully clothed and weep for the life that was taken from me, for the future that loomed dark and foreboding, for my dead Papa lying in a cold grave somewhere outside of Paris.

...

I spilled into the night breathing the cold air like it was saving my life. My wounds were still so fresh that having anyone ask how I was made me burst into tears. I had to escape this nightmare.

Everyone was polite and modestly friendly but no one was Papa. My only protector in a very large world, a world I knew nothing about. My entire world until a week ago had been centered around my lovable laughing father and now he was gone. Tears slid coldly down my cheeks and I shivered as loneliness blanketed me in despair.

"You were once my one companion," I warbled into the night, my voice affected by my tears. "You were all that mattered. You were once a friend and father..." I dissolved into tears crumpling to the stone and cried until I had no tears left

He can not return to you, I told myself numbly. God does not grant such things.

You can not join him, I felt the need to remind myself, rising to make my way below.

I dragged myself to the pillar that held the door and spiraling staircase never glancing up from my feet as I turned the corner and bumped directly into a cloaked man.

He had to be a man because there was no softness to his body as my nose bounced off his sternum.

"Oh, pardon me?" I said politely enough and then looked up into a woven white mask. Startled, I gasped and backed away from his perfectly still frame. For a moment I thought he wasn't real and then fear snared me.

"I h-have n-no money or jewelry," my voice trembled in the cold air, fear tangible in every syllable.

His voice whispered just loud enough for me to hear, "I am not planning to rob you, Mademoiselle".

I stared dumbly at this apparition before me, for what else could he be, dressed in the finest of clothing, a robber's mask upon his face and with the voice of an angel. The words still lingered in my ears as if they had the power to live long after he had unleashed them. My fear evaporated and I blinked rapidly to dispense with the odd dream. The apparition moved in a graceful glance around us both as if to see if we were alone.

Part of my mind struggled to surface telling me to run away from this odd encounter but I was raptly waiting for him to speak again. He didn't disappoint me.

"Best if you just forget ever having run into me, child," his black, black cloak swirled around him and the fluttering fabric snapped close to my face. I jumped back but reached forward at the same time.

"Wait!" I cried suddenly sure that he was an apparition sent from God but I had been judged unworthy of the attention. Had my tear filled nights finally reached the Lord's ears? "Why do you cover the face God gave you?"

The question startled the angel and he looked at me with light, piercing eyes, eyes that could see into the depths of my soul.

"Because I am very ugly," he responded and was gone.

I rubbed my hands over my tear stained face, tired and unsure if I had just hallucinated and had a conversation with myself. A voice like that could not be real! It purled in my ears like it had substance. It was unlike anything I had ever heard. Surely voices like that only existed beyond the gates of heaven.

The mask was odd. Why would an angel hide his face?

The way he just disappeared into thin air though supported my angel theory. Just to be sure I advanced slowly to where he'd been standing. There was no door on this side to the large pillar. I began to tremble as I reached out and touched the stone. It was cold and rough beneath my fingers and felt solid to me. I shuddered and made my way to the staircase thinking of one more piece of evidence that suggested a holy encounter.

He called me child.

Ever since I could remember, Papa had called me child. Even once I had grown I was always Child to him, as if he could not bear me growing up and no longer being his child. Hearing that pet name come from the angel's lips had resonated within me.

Was Papa trying to contact me from heaven?

Or had I finally tipped into madness from my grief.


	2. Angel or Devil

Erik

---

Why seemed to be a word that I often thought about. Why was I born this way? Why did my mother hate me so? Why did I allow myself to be the star in a freak show? Why did I allow the Shah to break me? Why? Why? Why?

Why was I born at all if only to live this wretched life?

I sighed and leaned on the barrier separating me from a terrifying drop to the streets of Paris below. I was tired of pretending to live. My weekly dinners with Nadir were the only glimmer of light in my darkness. Work no longer had any appeal to me; I would mortar and brick my creations like an automaton, the lines still perfect even with my inattention. Music was getting more difficult to compose, everything turned into some raging inferno that spiraled me into the darkest rivers of my mind and I would fling myself from the piano gasping at the awesome malevolence that spilled from within me.

I looked down at the busy street wondering why I didn't just throw myself off and end this. I should wipe myself from existence and do God a favor. What, after all, have I ever done that could be considered good? Of course, Nadir would worry if I didn't show up next week. He would drag himself down to my lair and find me gone never to be heard from again. I sighed dramatically. I could not do that to him. Not him.

I turned around to look out over the roof of the opera. The large statues stretched up into the starry night mocking my inner torture with their casual affair with the sky. How many nights did I stand up here holding a conversation with nothing? How many nights did I leave disgusted with my childish yearning for a place better than this one? For a life better than the one I had been given?

Monsters do not deserve a life. It is sufficient for them only to live.

I turned back around with a snarl on my face gripping the stone tightly. This wasn't living! What I endured was not living! The cold lonely cave that I had thought would bring me peace was just a tomb for the Living Corpse, a cell for The Deathbringer, a mausoleum for the Phantom of the Opera.

Why was I even still alive? Hadn't I been through enough torment? Enough sorrow? Enough pain?

Was there truly more pain waiting for me? For a moment, killing myself sounded really good and then I thought of Nadir with a pang in my chest. He saved your life you ungrateful piece of shit! Twice! You could at least keep living for him!

Deflated, I closed my eyes. Not all your life has been one beating after another, one sneer after another. There were those years in Persia, safe within the walls of Nadir's home…my mind wandered to the only time in my life I had ever felt peace and my heart lifted. With my heart lighter, my voice rose around me, spilling the sorrow from within me so it could dance among the stars and bleed into the dark night instead of bleeding me some more.

- - -

Christine

- - -

I ran up the spiral staircase with tears trailing heedlessly down my face. She was so mean! I only asked her for help, and she barely listened to me sing before laughing at me. She even called over more people and said, " Sing again little sparrow. Then we can all have a good laugh."

To think, I'd asked her to teach me so I could sing like her. Well, now I hated her! Despicable, horrible, fat woman. I reached the door to the roof and pushed. It did not budge. I tried again, apologizing in my head for my rude thoughts about Carlotta. The door was still immovable.

I stepped back and took a deep breath of damp stone flicking a curl off my forehead. Every night I came up to the roof and prayed feverishly to the dark sky, hoping that I would be given another chance. I would not let some silly door get in my way but that was not the only reason I'd run up here after what happened. Up on the roof was the only place I felt any peace lately. The pain in my empty hollow heart grew each day and I was rapidly shriveling into a creature I didn't recognize. Heavy dark circles were permanent bruises under my eyes and just today Mme Giry's daughter Meg had asked me if I was feeling ill. I couldn't eat; sleep came fitfully even after grueling days of dance practice and my mind wandered carelessly all the time. I was not myself but then how could I be myself when nothing around me was familiar?

I took another deep breath and thought _Please open _towards the door. It gave heavily and I breathed in the cold, crisp night air with relief. The tears on my face were instantly cold and I reached up to scrub them away but did not make it.

A man was singing out there, somewhere on the dark roof. I quietly closed the door not wanting to disturb them. It was not English or French that he sang in, as far as I could tell, but the syllables moved me anyhow, though their meaning remained hidden. He was very, very good. Better than Piangi, who currently held the male lead. This voice was not just good. It was exquisite. I walked to the corner wanting to see what kind of man had the voice of an angel but halted at my thoughts.

Angel. I flattened myself to the wall, ridiculously excited. Was it him? The apparition with the voice and the mask? So I was not insane? An angel had really been sent to me?

I peeked quickly around the corner. The man was tall and slim with his back to me. The opera suit so black that it had to be brand new. His gloved hands rose as he sang to….

He was alone. He sang to the sky, begging for something it seemed. He pleaded in his angel's voice and I was drawn out of my hiding place by the gentle roll of his hands and the golden beauty of his tongue. I must speak to him.

I put my hand to my chest to quell the frantic beating of my heart. From here he looked like a patron to the Opera and I argued with myself about the existence of angels. Faith and logic railed in my head stopping me when I'd only gone a few feet from the corner. I could easily hide again, I thought but suddenly the singing stopped. Silence echoed in my ears and I grabbed the tail of my long braided hair.

"Excuse me?" my voice carried easily, soft and sweet across the stone roof, and his reaction was enormous. He spun, so fast I could have blinked and missed it. He half crouched as if prepared for an attack and then straightened when his eyes landed on me. I thought I saw something glint in the moonlight but when I looked closer I saw only his hands.

Fear rippled down my back as I realized I was a fool for speaking to a masked man alone on a roof no matter how beautiful his voice was but it didn't cling to me. I thought of all the nights I'd prayed for another chance with Papa's angel and here I had it.

"Your v-voice is l-lovely" I stuttered out foolishly blushing at how inadequate a description that was. The angel did not move, as if waiting for me to prove I was deserving. I took a good look at him, head to toe, and he looked solid to me. Not fuzzy or ethereal and I recalled running into him and finding him as hard as a brick wall. Surely angels would have a more heavenly air about them, a softer presence to behold. There was nothing soft about this person but I had to ask.

"Are you an angel?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise and I looked down at my toes, flushing warmly at my childish sounding question. I opened my mouth to explain myself better and the masked man spoke and I forgot that I knew words let alone which ones I'd been about to say.

"No, I am not," he said coldly. "Though," he pondered for a moment looking out over the view of Paris, "I could be."

Oh, that voice belonged in a dream. I shivered and had to repeat what he'd said in my head to understand the actually words.

"Is that some sort of riddle?" I asked, confused, as I began to twirl the end of my braid through my fingers.

"No," he said simply, the one word not allowing for the beauty of his voice. He stepped back a few slow small steps and glanced around and I remembered the way he disappeared before.

"Please do not vanish again," I stepped forward quickly babbling nervously, "I don't know how you did that last time but I thought I was going crazy…seeing things and hearing things…" I trailed off self-consciously, stopping a few feet away as his eyes bored into my soul. The mask was a little frightening, the way it emphasized the scowl on his face and I took a trembling breath for courage. What was I doing here anyway? Was I crazy? He looked intimidating and dark and I cursed at myself for being so naïve.

Whatever compelled me to walk out here and speak to this man? I knew the answer even as the question fluttered through my head. It was my overwhelming loneliness as well as my hope and faith in a power higher than all of us here on earth.

"If you are not an angel then…" I let my question trail off. How did he know me? Did he even know me or had he called me child merely in passing? "Do you know me?" I asked abruptly questioning my own sanity as his eyebrow rose once more.

"No," his eyes flicked over my dress and his brow furrowed, "You will catch your death dressed as you are." The word death hung in the air like an omen, like he said the word a lot. His beautiful voice suddenly rang differently in my ears. It was stern and ominous, echoing not one bit as the words were directed right at me, like he could pierce people with his voice alone. I wrapped my arms around myself in useless protection. Seeing him this close and angry I suddenly remembered that if this world that I was learning about had angels, then would it not also have demons? My eyes widened as all of my holy evidence suddenly pointed to evil rather than good and his earlier words 'he could be an angel'. Did he mean he chose not to? He chose the Devil? I backed away slowly, my body trembling under the glare of his fearsome eyes, eyes that could see into my soul. I turned and ran.


	3. Compelled

Erik

---

I tried not to think about the ridiculous encounter I'd just endured. Do I look like an angel fool girl? Twice now the same child had crossed my path and she thought it was divine intervention? Little did she know, she could not be further from the truth.

I sighed and tiredly made my way down to the cellars below the opera. I would have to be more careful up on the roof if she was going to be gallivanting around up there. Well, she was hardly gallivanting. The poor girl had dark shadows under her eyes and seemed to have lost weight since our first meeting. Her rail thin body shivering in that summer dress had enraged me.

Was there no one caring for this innocent child? It's okay to leave me defenseless and alone in this cold unforgiving world but this innocent slip of a girl? Who approaches random masked men in the middle of the night and speaks of angels like they really exist?

I frowned at my sudden burst of anger. I was really getting too worked up over this. She was probably just some ballet rat who had too much to drink and overheard me singing in her inebriated state and jumped to the same conclusion everyone made. A voice like that could not be real henceforth I must be an angel.

I entered my lair and put on some tea. I glanced around looking for something to occupy me until the water boiled and went into my spare room to sort through more of my accumulated junk.

Lighting the lamps revealed my so called "junk" to my eyes. Beautiful paintings, exquisite carpets, delicate furniture, towering lamps, trinkets, artifacts and books, so many books filled the large space. I eyed everything wearily. I knew I had to sort through things and toss out what I didn't want or need but the task seemed insurmountable. Almost 5 years of spur of the moment purchases had filled my large cavern with many pretty things. I lifted a gilded box that held a woman's hairbrush, tracing the inlaid mother-of-pearl showed the dust that had accumulated. It was a beautifully made case, rare, one-of-a-kind…bored already I put the trinket down and went to see if my water had boiled yet.

That Sunday I dutifully rode to Nadir's house in the carriage he always sent. I wasn't feeling up to company but I went every Sunday if only to appease him. The food wasn't bad either. Lately, I hadn't really been cooking for myself, though I fully knew how too, cooking for one seemed like a waste of time. I usually just lived on fruit, bread, tea and the occasional coffee. Having a full meal once a week was nice and the man I shared it with was the only person I'd ever eaten with.

I stared out into the rainy dusk through a crack in curtain and remembered sitting with him when I was a child. It was strange that I, a servant in his home, was welcomed at his table, while the other servants ate in the kitchen but I figured he was sparing them the discomfort of my face so I never thought about it then. Now though, I pondered that. Why would he still invite me to his table and into his house? He knew the things I was capable of? But I suppose he knew I could never hurt him. That memory made me shudder and I was glad the carriage chose that moment to stop. Well, no more moping, let's try to be adult, Erik, and enjoy the company.

I did enjoy his company, until he told me over the chess board that he'd commissioned another house. It was his job as the manager of my company to do such things but I was in such a creative funk that I railed at him angrily about wasting my precious time and stormed out. I stalked all the way back to the opera, mumbling and grunting to myself about having to sketch out a design for a new home. Having to work in people's demands was the most tedious part because they always asked for stupid things. And then I would have to meet with Bernard and go over all the details, and then the endless nights of work, while my team carried out my orders in the daylight hours, under Bernard's watchful eye. I preferred to work alone in the dark because inperfections were easier to see by a light of a lamp then in the glaring sun. I sighed deeply as I reached the side entrance down to the lake, and I wasn't even finished the latest house. It was still weeks, months from completion. I rubbed my temples annoyed and brooding.

I couldn't go down yet, I needed the stars. I climbed the stairs quickly, my long legs gobbling them with vigor. Fine, so the mysterious architect known only as Erik would build another bloody house. Just fine.

I used my hidden door to emerge onto the roof and gut wrenching sobs filled the air. I hid in the shadows looking around to see if the woman crying had spied me yet. I couldn't see her and I thought about going back down. I usually would but for some reason tonight I felt petulant. This is MY roof.

With a sneer in the direction of the tears I turned to go climb one of the large statues and sit up there. I breathed deeply of the crisp air and relaxed utop Apollo's out stretched arms glad for my dexterity and balance. I stared up at the sky glad that the rain had ceased and left the scattered clouds to dissipate. I tried to relax and count my tiny blessings but the sobbing continued hysterically. Whoever she was, she was very good at crying. The heightened snarffling sound indicated she had been here awhile and as the minutes ticked by I began to feel sorry for her. I sat up looking around for her. Really nothing could be that bad? Could it? I mean, I never cried like that and I'd been beaten and starved for years of my life. Could some woman really have gone through something that would make her so…

"Why do you punish me?" her voice suddenly rang out over the roof. "What have I done to anger you?" I sprang to my feet. Was she being abused right here, right now and I just sat there laughing at her? I hastily climbed down and started forward towards her cries, propelled by a force that I didn't argue with.

She was curled up against a bench under the rose covered gazebo, sobbing her heart out. She was hunched over protectively but no man stood above her. Her spine shook with the effort of her tears and I noticed she had no outer wear on.

I almost rolled my eyes. Would I have to go out and buy all the ballet rats new jackets and cloaks? I watched her cry for a few minutes, her long curly hair bouncing with the force of her sobs and felt an unusual sensation in my chest. Dismissing it I scowled down at her. I wanted her to stop this infernal noisy crying. I thought about shaking some sense into her but she spoke again.

"Why did he have to go?" she whimpered and I realized she'd lost someone. Her lover leave her in a fit of anger? I sighed and pulled out my handkerchief wondering even as I approached her what the hell I was doing.

---

Christine

-- -

Grief engulfed me and I submitted to its wracking sobs with almost relish, knowing on the other side of the pain the numbness would surround me. Loneliness smothered me like a blanket, making air hard to breathe and my lungs burned as a coughed on my tears. They quickly soaked the sleeves of my dress where I buried my face and wept bitterly. The stone bench and ground were cold but they helped to keep me numb so I didn't mind.

I heard someone behind me and thought it was Meg. She would look at me sometimes with knowledge in her eyes, like she could imagine my pain. She had told me about losing her father to try to help me but she still had her mother so she couldn't know the deep longing and misery that I was now experiencing.

"Mademoiselle," a man said softly and I groaned in embarrassment. "Ne pleur pas, Mademoiselle." My breath suddenly shuddered to a stop and my body trembled. The exquisite roll of those few words sent a chill down my spine. The demon-angel.

I raised my head slowly and looked over my shoulder sure that my face was a complete disaster but what did that matter if my life was now over. The masked entity stood very close looking down at me like he wanted to be angry but could not. He knelt so neither one of us had to crane our necks and held out a handkerchief. I eyed it wondering if this was how I died, crying in the cold for my dead father. Had I already died?

"I d-don't spe-eak f-french," I stuttered, thinking it would be something a demon or angel who had come for me would know.

"I said do not cry," he spoke again and I looked up at his face with trepidation. The skin on his face was so pale that it rivaled the white of his mask. Seeing him this close, the uncovered side of his face was actually quite pleasing even though he'd said the reason for his mask was his ugliness. His hair was very dark slicked back form his forehead and his gloved hand looked very normal as it offered the handkerchief silently. I reached for it slowly, still unsure who or what this man was. His eyes no longer bored into me but instead were soft with compassion.

"How c-can I n-not c-cry?" my breath hitched terribly as I spoke, partially from my tears and partially because I was a little scared to be alone with this man, this unknown thing. "P-papa is dead." Saying it out loud seemed infinitely worse then when I'd only said it in my head and tears filled my tired eyes. I covered my face with his handkerchief and began to sob once more.

"If your Papa were to look down from heaven and see you grieve so, would it not hurt him?" I stopped breathing again. If Papa saw me like this it would tear out his heart! I lifted my face no longer frightened of the masked man, for he had spoken gravely and truthfully in that amazing voice, offering me the first real reason to stop my grieving.

"What am I t-to do?" I asked, believing completely now that he was here to help me and he would know. I looked into his eyes, which had frightened me less than a week ago, with total faith. He had not smote me down to hell and he seemed to be trying to soothe me. His eyes were light with dark lashes around them but I could not tell which colour in the darkness. The one black eyebrow that was visible, arched gracefully over his eye, as if silently questioning what to say before he looked down at his hands.

"Do not allow your grief to consume you, child" he spoke softly like a priest offering consolation and my throat tightened painfully at the endearment. I opened my mouth to tell him my name so he would stop referring to me by my Papa's pet name when his hands suddenly clenched into ugly fists. I sucked in a startled breath and leaned away from him as he stood quickly, the black cloak rocking with the motion.

"You should get yourself inside where it is warm," he ordered coldly. "I doubt very much your father would like it if you became ill." His voice was angry and harsh and he turned heel and walked away. I watched him leave wondering why he didn't just disappear like before. Was he only a man then? A strange masked man, with a wonderful voice? Why did he suddenly get so angry? Why was he first so nice to me? I gathered myself off the cold stone and looked down at the expensive handkerchief in my hand. Then I looked at the path the man had taken remembering his strong striding gate as the cloak whipped behind him in the wind. This opera house was a strange place indeed.

- - -

Erik

- - -

I clenched my hands into fists to rid them of their ridiculous urge to touch her. I didn't even know her name, this young girl who had crossed my path three times now. Three! I hadn't known as I approached that it was the same young thing but it was. She had cried so hard though, her thin body shaking with the effort of her grief and even my hardened heart had tugged at the sight and sound. It was as if her very soul was crying out for consolation.

I wanted to embrace her and let her tears spill into me. Let me take away your pain and torment, what's a little more for me anyway. Let me suffer instead! Not this preciously innocent child with large moist eyes and a curtain of curls. Unable to stop myself I'd offered her some comfort but when the urge to touch her built within me I knew it was time to leave. She had looked frightened to death when she turned to see who had spoken and I knew if I touched her, she would probably faint.

She must have been sheltered all her life to be so damn trusting. My mask should have scared the life out of her but instead she just accepts my presence and seeks my guidance. It was almost laughable but I wasn't in the mood as I stalked down to my cavern.

She was going to get herself hurt or killed being so guileless, so trusting…unless…

I slowed my hurried descent. Befriend her?

No. I picked up my pace again. How could I think of such a thing?

But then, we had met three times now purely by fate. Once could be forgotten as accident. Twice, a coincidence. But three times…My brow furrowed as I recalled the sound of her grief and my reaction when I thought she was being hurt, her odd coloured curls bouncing as her body shook with pain.

"Oh, Christ!" I blasphemed out loud kicking a stone from the path. What was it with me and broken things? Always trying to fix them up, as if it was my only purpose here on earth and nobody else could do the job right. This girl was definitely broken but I'm sure it was something that was beyond my repair. If she was a new dancer a handsome patron would sink his claws into her soon enough and she would forget all about her precious Papa.

I thought about her timid voice, so sweet and enchanting the way she's whispered 'Papa is dead' like she was afraid to voice such a thing. I thought of her large eyes, so full of sadness but feverishly bright, as if she were trapped inside her pain, unable to escape from it. Those eyes had ripped compassion from within me.

When have I ever felt compassion for anyone?

As I set about warming my cave, my mind kept wandering to that child. So lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance. I snorted at myself. She was yearning for any kind of guidance. But….I suppose I could at least get her some proper outer wear.


	4. The Cloak

- - -

The following night I waited on the roof for her to appear. I assumed from the numerous encounters that I had already had with her that she came up here just as frequently as I did and it would only be a matter of time until she appeared.

I didn't have to wait long; she appeared at 10:32 with a thin shawl wrapped around her shoulders. I scowled at her inappropriate clothing and congratulated myself on my decision to help her. She wandered to the edge and stared at the view for awhile taking deep breaths. I realized she was trying to keep herself from crying and felt a pang for her. Poor girl.

I stayed in the shadows, hidden from her eyes and watched. I was not entirely sure why I was compelled to stare at her in such a manner except that I thought she might fling herself from the roof if my eyes did not keep her pinned to the ground. Funny how not long ago I contemplated the same act I was afraid that she would now commit. But it seemed like an injustice for the world to be left without this precious girl.

She turned suddenly, her rich curling hair flying around her face and even from far away I could see her gleaming eyes. They startled me badly. For, once again I felt the need to go to her.

I tore my gaze from her and stared at my feet breathing hard. This was madness! What was it in her eyes that kept wrenching these painful feelings from my chest? Was it that I thought she shared some semblance of pain with me? It was foolish to think even if I did go to her that she would accept my feeble attempts at empathy. She was innocence incarnate and I was not even worthy enough to touch the hem of her garments.

I kept my eyes downcast for a moment longer gathering my scattered thoughts together when quite suddenly the night was filled with the sweetest voice in the world.

"Wishing you were somehow here again. Wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seemed, if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here…" I had to cover my ears. My heart raced.

Her voice was incredible, lacking in strength and devoid of any actually emotion except for sorrow, but its clarity rang true and it was perfectly pitched. I goggled incredulously at her. How could so much beauty and pain come from one young girl? How could such an angelic looking creature be made to suffer so greatly? Anger coursed into me for her sake and I ranted silently at the heavens.

You take her father and leave her helpless and alone. You tear her from her home and leave her to cope in this strange environment. You parade her before me, so I can see all of her beauty and innocence first hand and then close your fist around her heart watching to see if the abomination you created will care enough to step in. I growled under my breath wishing I had something, someone to tear to pieces.

I had such a weakness for pretty things. Still surrounded myself with all kinds of pretty pieces, even though my childish dreams of stealing their beauty had long since vanished. I knew I could not steal this child's beauty but the dream flared to life inside me.

How easy would it be to spirit her away to my underground home and tell her I really was the angel she thought me to be. I could mend her broken wings and then teach her voice to fly again. I could bask in the innocence she exuded, enjoy her stunning radiance and perhaps she could teach me to feel again. She began to weep brokenly and my dream evaporated. I turned fully ready to leave this roof and never return. Such madness would have me hunted down and killed by whoever would miss this girl if I gave in to the absurdity I was thinking.

I almost tripped over the parcel lying at my feet. I took a deep breath to control myself. Perhaps I was finally going mad and need not worry about the new house I was to create.

I glanced around to see where she was and saw she was trying to compose herself by the edge again. Quickly, I dropped silently from my platform and placed the package where I was sure she would practically trip on it herself and then I made to leave. Before I'd even taken two steps I sighed and climbed back up to my perch. I just wanted to make sure she got the gift.

When she finally came around the corner she stopped at the sight of the large paper wrapped parcel. She looked around and turned a quick circle.

"Hello?" her eyes came back to the package and then she walked quickly around searching the roof for anyone. "Hello?" her voice echoed around us briefly before getting lost in the wind. Her eyes contemplated the parcel for a few moments and then she leaned down and plucked the card from beneath the strings.

I pondered for a long time what to write in that card. In the end I wrote only, "You seem rather ill prepared for the winter climate in the city. Do _try_ to take care of yourself and keep warm." I signed it O.G. because though I knew signing it as Angel would let her know precisely who had given her this gift, it would not do for everyone in the opera to think they were haunted by a phantom and an angel.

She knelt down by the package as I chastised silently 'Don't kneel on the cold stone'. She proceeded to work the knot with dainty fingers until the paper fell away and she pulled out the cloak. It was only the best quality I could purchase on such short notice but she gawked at it like it was lined with gold. Her mouth opened and closed comically as she stood to hold it up completely. The length of fine, lined wool uncurled gracefully and she stared for a moment before clutching it to her chest and looking around again.

"Please, if you are still here, please speak to me," she pleaded to the quiet night around her. "Why…," she swallowed her question and instead just repeated, "Please", with the most heartbreaking intensity. I looked away from her. I could not grant her that wish. Not tonight, a part of me whispered and I trampled it firmly.

Not ever.

"Please," she begged once more, very quietly as if she already knew her wish could not be granted. Could I really make that desperate tone in her voice disappear just by appearing before her? No, crazy fool.

I was not man enough to go to her. I was only a ghost.

- - -

Christine

- - -

I spent the next day doing anything I could to occupy my mind. My masked guardian had said to not get consumed by grief and the only way I could accomplish that was by not stopping for a second. The morning was spent dancing on stage, practicing hard and Mme Giry rewarded me with a nod and a sharp "Better". I wasn't really sure if she was saying I was better or she wanted me to do better. I tried to keep my mind from thinking certain thoughts by talking to some of the other girls, asking for help and trying to make friends finally. I washed my hair after the afternoon practice and combed it out thoroughly, which takes a lot of time. I tidied my room and started thinking about going up to the roof after dinner.

I was determined to figure out who this odd man was who kept appearing to help me. Upon further thought he could not be an angel for angels were never as rude as he. I didn't think he was a demon either because why would one take the time to give me handkerchief and say 'do not cry' so beautifully in French instead of just stealing my soul? That left only one other option. He was just a man.

A man who must live in the opera house for him to have been on the roof all of those nights. Was he a scenery technician? A member of the chorus? A janitor? I laughed at that thought, not in the opera suit he wore. Perhaps he was a patron…

I pulled out the cloak from my closet. It was a beautiful piece of clothing, lined for warmth and style, the wool a deep forest green. I felt like a princess when I draped it around my shoulders and tied it at my throat. Whoever left it for me had expensive taste. I thought of the impeccably dressed specter in the mask and wondered if he was O.G. for the hundredth time. Who else could have done it? Who else would have?

I stepped out into the hall and was stopped by Meg and some of her friends.

"Bonsoir, Christine, where are you going?" Meg was the leader of the chorus, by right of course. She was a beautiful dancer and pushy, so she easily became leader without her mother's sway.

"Just up to the roof for a bit. Fresh air before bed helps me sleep," I smiled at the other girls and tried to remember their names.

"Is this new?" Meg inquired fingering the cloak with a hint of jealousy in her eyes.

"Yes, someone gave it to me," I glanced down at the garment trying to make light of it but it practically screamed expensive.

"A patron?" she sounded disbelieving.

"Actually, would you believe it if I said I'm not really sure who gave it to me?" The other two girls started tittering amongst themselves but I kept my eyes on Meg, wanting to keep the tenuous bond we'd made secure. She was the only girl who'd gone out of her way to be nice and she'd shared the loss of her father with me as well.

"How do you know it was for you then?" she crossed her arms saucily.

"My name was on the parcel," the lie spilled from my mouth without thought and I immediately wished I could snatch it back. I never lied! Why would I lie for something as silly as this cloak? It didn't have my name on it but I was the only person on that roof last night, who else would the note and package have been for? Surely Meg would understand if I explained it but it was too late.

"C'est le Phantom!" one of the girls, Julie?, said and then giggled nervously as Meg rolled her eyes.

"All of a sudden, the Phantom is Masked Pere Noel? Don't be stupid, Julie!" they seemed about to move on but I grabbed Meg. She said masked…

"Who wears a mask?" besides my otherworldly guardian. She looked at me sort of surprised.

"Have we not told you of the Phantom?"

"A Phantom, like a ghost?" but his handkerchief was real and who else but him would have left me a cloak and said to keep warm. Could ghosts do those sorts of things?

"Well, we can not be certain of his existence because no one has ever spoken to him." Meg put some eerie emphasis on her words wiggling her fingers spookily. "He lurks on the roof and in the halls and has claimed Box 5 as his. He promises to punish us all if the theatre is not run to his standards." She finished with a flourish and a laugh not taking it seriously but the other girls clutched at my sleeves.

"They say he is deformed and mad," Julie spoke quickly.

"He wears a mask to cover a hole where he has no nose!" was her name Margaret, or Marjorie…

"Yes, yes," Meg flipped her hand, "and when he sings he entrances birds and girls alike with the voice of an angel. Really, Christine, it's only a story." She sounded so sure but I had proof and kept silent.

"Seems like quite a tale," I managed.

Marg scrunched up her face at me, "C'est vrai, Christine. If not where did you get the cloak? None of the patrons have seen you, since you have not debuted." The girl had a good point, who else would know of my presence here except for the resident ghost.

"Perhaps, Monsieur Phantom is in love with you?" Julie's eyes were wide with belief. "He does have a soft spot for chorus girls."

"Yes, that's right" Marg nodded emphatically turning back to me, "He demanded we have more parts. Told the managers they had 'hidden jewels lurking in the background when they should be on display'" I blinked trying to imagine the quiet masked man with this flamboyant portrait.

"How do you know all this?" I was unsure what to believe anymore. My outrageously odd encounters with him or the crazy things they were saying. No nose? How can someone have no nose?

"They know this because they are terrible gossips and terrible flirts," Meg had her arms crossed and stuck out her tongue at her friends. "They will sleep with anyone with a tidbit."

Marg and Julie gasped and then broke into fits of laughter, something about tidbits being completely correct. Then they continued down the hall without Meg, giggling on each other's arms, their hips swaying in unison as they hailed a passing cleaner with blown kisses and waving motions while I watched it all open mouthed. By sleeping did they mean marital relations?

Meg turned back to me, "You really don't know who gave this to you?"

I shrugged, "It wasn't there one minute and then was in my path the next," wanting to change the subject I asked, "Do they really sleep with men they aren't married to?"

Meg blinked at me and then reached out to pat my shoulder, "You're still a virgin?" She sounded so sure that there was no reason to answer her as I went a colourful shade of red and looked away. She made me sound like I was a child just because I'd never been with a man. I was only 18! Besides, you weren't supposed to have that knowledge until you were married. Only one man should know your body.

"That might have to change," she continued sympathetically and I looked up shocked. "I mean not like that! The men just expect a certain amount of …mmm…play. But you can be choosy with them. Most just want to grope you and slobber on you. They aren't allowed to force you into anything but they do expect you to enjoy their company thoroughly." If my face got anymore red it would burn right off! She spoke so blatantly of intimate things, intimate relations. Wanting desperately to change the subject again I piped up.

"So is the masked man real?" Meg shrugged and glanced away like she was bored.

"A few people say they've really seen him. The men tell wild stories about fights in the back corridors and yellow eyes gleaming in the dark, a mask as white as snow and skeletal hands…" she trailed off and then shook herself, sneering dramatically. "I think it's hogwash. The men fall down drunk, break their arm and make up stories."

I was silent, trying to imagine the man in the mask hurting someone and it was all too easy. But that voice…my argument in my head died as I remembered the way he'd shot his words at me coldly. Meg turned in farewell, "I will ask Maman if she knows who bought you the cloak. Maybe one of the managers wants your favour," and with that heartening thought she turned down the hall, hurrying to catch up to the others.

I stood undecided in the now vacant corridor. I still wanted to thank my masked friend for the cloak hoping it was him and not some tubby manager wanting to, what did Meg say, grope me? I also desperately wanted to hear his voice again, when it was pleasant of course, but if he was this phantom fellow…the mask, the voice, the way he disappeared…he probably was! But he was kind to me for a moment, offered me comfort…why would some supposed terrible phantom take a moment to care for me? I started towards the stairs, determined, things here were stranger than I could have ever dreamt.


	5. Masquerade

In the end my determination to meet this puzzling specter proved fruitless. It seemed the Phantom could only be found when he wished to be found. I went to the roof every night for 2 weeks in search of him with his cleaned handkerchief in the pocket of the wool cloak. I felt like I couldn't even call the cloak mine until I thanked him for it, if he even existed, if he was the one who bought it for me in the first place. I huffed as I hung the cloak back up in the barren closet. If not for my pieces of evidence I would assume I only hallucinated and there was no such man. I'd tried to alter the times I went up to the roof, going two or three times some nights sure that I'd just missed him but to no avail.

I slipped out of my shoes and wiggled my bare toes. Mme Giry had me training hard, teaching me all the parts at once, and I was finally getting caught up. I flopped down on my bed thoroughly exhausted just as my door opened. I looked up surprised as Meg tip-toed in with a finger to her lips.

I sat up and started pulling my hair out of its bun. "What is it?" It was well after midnight and for Meg to sneak over meant the gossip was good. She knelt on the bed beside me.

"Maman told me tonight and I was so excited!" she smiled hugely and bounced up and down a little. "She chose the dancers that will perform at the Masquerade!" her smile was so wide that I had to smile with her.

"You are going?" of course Meg would be going.

"Me and you, Christine!" she grabbed my hand squeezing it hard, "It will be your debut!"

I stared openmouthed not sure if I was glad the day had finally come. I'd been living here for a month now and knew my debut would be imminent but anonymity had its advantages and I wasn't looking forward to 'entertaining' men. Meg continued excitedly not noticing my hesitation to squeel in glee.

"Maman says you are ready," she assured me. "You, Julie and I will perform and then we get to mingle with the patrons!" Meg pulled me up off the bed in her exuberance. "It will be so fun!" she twirled me around and I started to feel some of her excitement. I did enjoy dancing and it would be nice to finally perform for people.

"As long as none of them touch me," I laughed with her.

"Oh Christine, it will be magical" she sighed hugely and her eye caught the note card propped up against my mirror. "What…" she goggled at it and then stomped over and picked it up. I wanted to stop her but didn't know what to do. I didn't want to share my strange and wonderful meetings with the Phantom but it looked as if I was going to have to as she read it and then held it out towards me with one hand on her hip.

"Where did you get this?" she seemed angry though I couldn't imagine why.

"It was with the cloak," I started to explain but Meg cut me off.

"Do you know who it's from?" her voice was heightened and I quickly shook my head.

"No! I have no idea who O.G. is," she looked at me for a second and then calmed down putting the card back with a long look at it and then she turned back around. I waited for her to say something and when she continued to look anywhere but at me I spoke.

"Do you know who O.G. is?" I asked quietly, wondering what could have caused her outburst.

"Opera Ghost," her words were soft directed to the floor but they froze me and excited me all the same. So he was real? Meg looked up and I gave her a confused look.

"I thought you said he wasn't real?" my voice trembled a little because I could easily imagine those piercing eyes in the white mask. Meg came to life.

"Oh, he's not Christine!" she laughed exuberantly. "Someone has played a marvelous prank on you. Oh we must find out who so we can return the favour." She chatted aimlessly about who it could be, breaking off on a tangent to tell me some other gossip about Julie's latest bed fellow and then she hopped up.

"Well, I suppose we should get to sleep. Remember to look surprised when Maman tells you tomorrow!" and she was gone. I blinked a few times after the wake of Meg Giry had left the room. It was as if she had multiple personalities residing in her one body.

I picked up my brush to untangle my hair. Naturally curly, forced into a tight bun and then forgotten for more than half a day generally made it spring in all directions around my head. I combed it out in all those directions as I stared at the note a ghost had written to me. It was absurd to think that he was a ghost. Ghosts do not talk to you or hand you things, they have no substance to them so I definitely could not run into a chest. A hard chest at that. So was there a man pretending to be a ghost? What for? What did he gain by doing it? Why would he do it? Didn't he have a family?

When I finished with my hair I gathered it in a ribbon and curled gratefully into bed. I said my prayers, like always, adding in a request that the Masquerade go well for me and then promptly fell asleep.

- - -

I was nervous before I started to dance but once the music began I forgot the eyes of the audience and followed my body. It knew what to do so I threw myself into the moves putting all my energy into dancing well.

The eyes of the audience were not so easy to ignore once the dancing was over. The whole point to a Masquerade is so people don't know who you are, but every man in the place knew me because I had been introduced as the new dancer. Choruses of my name were shouted, whispered and sung to get my attention and after about an hour of prying men's hands off of me I'd had enough.

I snuck out to the balcony and stripped off the mask. My head was throbbing in that preemptive way. I knew the worst was yet to come and wished I could go to bed with a cold compress. I rested my hands on the stone railing and found it nicely cool. I bent over and pressed my flushed cheek to it and almost sighed in relief. I felt like a piece of meat, the way they clamored for my attention, like a pack of wild hungry dogs. I hadn't forgotten what Meg said about the 'play' they expected and I was getting a good dose of it tonight.

Someone cleared their throat behind me and I barely stifled a scared yip as I straightened from my embarrassing position. I turned quickly to make sure they kept their hands to themselves and eyed the next 'competitor'. He was tall and well dressed, his mask an elaborate spread of odd feathers.

"Good evening, sir," I curtsied politely, inclining my head towards him.

"Good evening," he answered and it was like a song on the breeze to my ears. My eyelashes fluttered and the mask fell from my hand. "You should take more care in where you seek to be alone," he reprimanded. "Not all men are gentlemen."

It was him, my brain screamed, but I was frozen, mouth open, entranced by that stern beautiful voice. It was utterly amazing.

"We have not been formally introduced, though I now know your name." He took a few unhurried steps towards me and his fluid movement made my breath catch. He bowed low to me. "It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance Christine Daae."

My name on his lips was the most exquisite sound I'd ever heard. It made my lashes flutter, my stomach shiver and I tried desperately to make my thoroughly muddled and befuddled brain say something as he knelt gracefully and picked up my dropped mask.

"What…wha…are you a patron?" I managed to get out.

"Oui," he flicked something off the mask, "in a manner of speaking." He held the mask out for me to take and I did. "You should change your mask," he flicked his hand sharply towards the offender, "Les enfants will not leave you be if they see it."

I furrowed my brow trying to concentrate on the words. His voice made it hard to pay attention, the melodious liquid quality filled my ears and blocked my comprehension.

"My mask?" I said quietly looking down and blinking rapidly. I remembered the white one he wore and looked up quickly to see him glancing over his shoulder. His eyes met mine for a moment and I had one second to see the soft gray shadows of his eyes surrounded by thick black lashes before he turned.

"I must go."

"No!" I reached out to grab his arm but he was faster than me, so fast that he was out of reach and facing me all in one motion. I blinked at him astounded, "Who are you?" I was mesmerized.

I could not see his expression at all because most of his mouth was covered by the mask but his eyes burned at me for a moment as if mad that I didn't know. Then he bowed to me again, except this time it looked sort of sarcastic. "Why, my lady, I am the Phantom of the Opera." He turned with purpose striding to the door where he stopped and looked back at me. I swear his eyes could see into the depths of me even though I knew now he was no angel. He looked dark and elegant in his black opera suit, black gloves, slick black hair and those odd colourful feathers that I'd never seen before. They were dark and misty looking but seemed to have all the colours of the rainbow in the center of them. He touched his gloved fingers to his head as if to tip a hat that I couldn't see, "You may call me, Erik."

---

Erik

---

I strode away from that balcony knowing I'd just crossed a line that was not meant to be crossed. I just gave the new ballet rat my name! What was wrong with me? I should have stayed away. I should have made sure she was safe and then left her alone but…I couldn't.

I was fascinated by her. Her innocence, her pain, her pretty eyes that weren't afraid. After hearing her name I was intrigued. I knew who her father was. Gustave Daae, the famous reclusive violinist from Sweden. I'd read in a newspaper at Nadir's that he died here in Paris but not that his daughter was left orphaned.

Well, she was hardly a child, though it seemed easier to think of her as such because otherwise I would think about the way she had danced and that was why the men clamored to get her attention. She'd thrown herself to the mercy of the music and it was heartbreaking to watch. She seemed so vulnerable, like her skin was too thin and you could see her spirit shining through. Her clean, bright, fresh, innocent spirit.

And then those boys, horny for the new fruit had panted after her, calling her name like they knew her personally. I'd wanted to save her. Swoop in and save her.

I slipped out of the main corridor into one of my own sighing as I leaned on the stone. I was not permitted to feel like this. I could not feel this possessive over her. She was nothing to me. I was nothing to her.

I stripped the strange mask off and rubbed my face. You told her your name, idiot.

Why had I told her my name? I could have left it alone. She could call me phantom like all the other girls.

But I didn't want to talk to the other insipid girls, I argued with myself. I wanted to talk to her.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. You are acting like a child. So, you told her your name. Big deal! It's not like you'll see her after tonight anyway so if you want to talk to her go out and talk to her! It may prove useful for her to have some form of protection near her tonight. I put the mask back on and snuck back out into the main corridor.

As long as Nadir did not see me, everything would be fine.

---

Christine

---

Meg found me before I came back in and asked to trade masks. I was more than happy to. Erik, he had a name, had said it would stop the harassing and I agreed. Let Meg deal with it. I waded into the throng of men and women. Now blissfully anonymous I could enjoy the people gaily dressed and flailing madly all around.

My head was spinning with thoughtsalmost as violently as they danced. Erik. He was the Phantom and his name was Erik. How could the Phantom be dangerous when he seemed so concerned for my well being? So considerate, so polite, so proper…

"Mademoiselle Daae," my name whispered beside me and I stopped moving like a switch had been thrown. My heart sped with the knowledge of that voice. I looked over my shoulder and saw the same feathered mask.

"I see you took my advice," he nodded as I turned towards him. My hand automatically came up for him to acknowledge and half way I realized he was not going to touch me. I reached for my hair and only grasped a few curls. It was not very comeforting as I blushed beneath my mask, wondering why I felt dissapointed.

"How did you know it was me?" I said to my toes.

"Your dress and hair have not changed," he said very practically and I felt very stupid.

"Would you prefer I leave you?" his voice…my eyes fluttered briefly but snapped open when I digested what he'd said.

"No!" I said quite loud and a few people looked towards us. His eyes never strayed from me, as if I was the only person in the room and the people eventually looked away. I realized why I'd thought him an angel with piercing eyes, his eyes were beautiful. Soft gray like a bird's downy feathers, but somehow darkly shadowed over and with the dark lashes to outline them.

"We seem to say that word a lot," his voice had a teasing edge to it and I started smiling shyly.

"Which word?"

"No."

"No?"

"Yes," he said perfectly and I laughed at the silly exchange. He did not join me and I sobered quickly. What a strange man he was.

"You must forgive me, Mlle, I do not often indulge in laughter." He turned slightly and swept a hand towards some chairs as if to ask without a word "would you like to sit?"

"Why would you choose to not laugh?" I moved to the chairs.

"Emotion is a dangerous thing," his voice was smooth as silk across my skin.

"Dangerous? How can laughter be dangerous?" I sat in the first chair I reached. He sat beside me and looked around briefly then his eyes came back to me to stop my heart.

"You will have to take my word for it, Mlle" I swallowed down the next question because his voice and his eyes commanded I do not pursue this line of questioning. It was okay though, I had so many other questions that I could pick another one.

I waffled over what to say. He seemed very educated and I didn't want to sound stupid again.

"Where did those feathers come from?"

"India."

"Do they come from a bird?"

"Do feathers come from anywhere else?" he asked mildly and I blushed again. "I meant to say, what kind of bird to they come from?"

"A peacock." He glanced around us again and I thought he was bored with my conversation.

"Are you truly the Phantom?" I decided to ask. His eyes came back to me and the centers of all those feathers seemed to be watching me as closely as his eyes were.

"Yes," he didn't elaborate and I was left to ask another question.

"Why?"

"Why not?" I think he was teasing me again. I wasn't sure because I couldn't see any of his face but his voice had a different musical lilt to it. I rose to his bait.

"Because people are frightened of the phantom."

"And yet you are not." He stared at me right in the eyes and I wasn't scared at all. He was right.

"You have done nothing to scare me but I've heard stories…" I trailed off because I was being rude. Why should I believe what those girls said anyway? He has been nothing but nice to me. "Stories that are probably untrue." I said hurriedly, "Forgive me for being rude I promise I have better manners than that."

"Which stories?" he asked casually when I was done rambling and I looked up from my lap.

"I'm sure it is only gossip and not worth repeating," I trailed off again his steady gaze amongst the eyeing feathers making it hard to concentrate. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me so intensely. "They said you had no nose." It was all I could think of at the moment.

"And that is false so why not the rest?" he was sort of asking but not really and his voice oh…his voice. I heard nothing in the room but his voice though I am sure there was plenty of background noise, it was all inconsequential to me.

I wondered if I listened to it long enough if I would get used to it. I wondered if I could ever want to get used to that voice. I thought I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

"They did get one thing right. You do have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard," I reached and put my hand on his forearm where it rested on the chair and immediately I wished I hadn't. Tension rang through his body like lighting and his arm went hard under my touch. I didn't get a chance to say or do anything because someone started shouting my name.

We both looked out into the crowd around us but no one was looking at us. Erik stood and my hand slid from his arm. I stared up at how tall he was, how proper he looked with his gloves and dress suit. The way he stood in front of me like he would protect me and guard me with a mask of exotic feathers on his face.

"Christine!" a familiar voice shouted and I looked around. I knew that voice. Meg was still wearing my mask and I realized whoever was looking for me had found her. The man in a black domino mask looked vaguely familiar as he grabbed Meg by the arm rather rudely. "Are you ignoring me, Christine?" he shook her slightly and I remembered with a rush. Raoul. Raoul De Changy. But he didn't realize Meg wasn't me. He only saw the mask. I stood and wedged myself directly behind Erik. I couldn't hear what Meg was saying but I think she pretended to be me. Erik looked at me hiding behind him and purred softly.

"Do you know that man?" his voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"Yes," I whispered backing up slightly at his change in tone.

"Are you frightened now?" he sounded very odd and I was not sure if he was asking if I was frightened of him or Raoul.

"Yes," I said because all my attention was now on Raoul and his firm grip on Meg's arm. He was trying to walk her through the crowd but Meg was fighting back now.

"Let go!" I heard her say as she tugged away from him.

"It is time to go, enough playing around." Raoul was angry but I couldn't blame him. He and his father thought I was safely home in Sweden. But why would I go back to an empty, memory filled house. I couldn't do it.

"Thank you for the cloak," I said as I turned away from the shelter of Erik's back, "I need to leave." I left the Opera Ghost Erik standing there and fled through the crowds of people. I felt silly, like that girl from the fairy tale Cinderella, fleeing at midnight but I was frightened suddenly of everyone around me and the only place I could hide was in my tiny bedroom. I wanted to lock the door, tuck myself under the covers, curl up into a ball and forget the rest of the world.

---

Erik

---

I stood in the same spot where Christine Daae left me and studied the build of the man in the black domino mask. He was busy trying to explain his behavior to an irate Meg Giry which is never an easy thing to handle. He didn't look very large. I pegged him in his early twenties. I could easily take him.

I turned away from the man with thoughts of making him disappear at the hands of the Deathbringer to follow the path Christine took when she fled. I hoped she was tucked safely in her chamber. She was such a sweet girl and her father was dead, her life in shambles and now horny young men harassing her.

I knelt in the hall to pick up her discarded mask. It was a brilliant green, blue and purple, butterfly mask shaped such that her tawny eyes had appeared to be another color in the mask. I traced the eye hole thinking about those unafraid golden eyes when a voice penetrated my thoughts.

"Did I see you talking to that girl?" Nadir spoke casually from behind me.

I tossed Christine's mask back on the ground, though a part of me wanted to keep it as a memento of this night. My first real conversation with a girl.

"Ridiculous," I scoffed, taking on a casual air. I straightened my jacket and walked towards him. "I was merely guaranteeing her safety. Those men pant after her like dogs."

"Hmm," he looked at me and then gazed down the hall where Christine had most likely run. "I saw that as well. In Persia such attention would be an honor for a girl."

Anger coursed through me at the thought of Christine alone in Persia, at the mercy of horny men and I stalked to Nadir to tower over him menacingly. "This is not Persia," I spat out and then tried to reel in my rage. I turned away from him scared he would be able to read my eyes and see that I felt more than just pity for this young girl. I felt something I couldn't even explain to myself.

"I tire of this," I waved my hand in dismissal. "Safe journey home, Daroga." I strode away from him head high in the direction opposite of Christine's flight. I could feel his eyes on me and knew that he was trying to unravel the mystery. Why would I talk to this girl and try to defend this girl when I had stayed away from any other contact with the opera's tenants for 5 years?

It was a question even I didn't have an answer to, so curious Daroga you will just have to wait.

This was dangerous. I knew it, he knew it. If she told the managers about me they could send the police searching. They didn't mind taking advice from a ghost but a man pretending to be a ghost…it was an absurd situation. But none of the danger or absurdity is what held the majority of my attention. I wanted to see her again.

I wanted to explore those golden eyes that held not one trace of fear as she asked question after question seeking answers like the Daroga himself. She was so charmingly inquisitive and sweet and gentle. She touched me, just for a moment on the arm, but who would have thought a simple touch could make my knees tingle and raise all the hairs on the back of my neck. Who has ever touched me so…so softly?

She had piqued my curiosity and I did want to see her again, speak to her, have her say my name, bask in the light that shone from within her eyes. A light that would dim if she continued to grieve for her father. A light that would dim if men continued to harass her, if they committed crimes upon her.

She was like a beautiful virgin fairy princess, glowing with her inner beauty, ethereal and exquisite and I was terribly drawn to her. There could be only heartache for me, for who could withstand the magic's of a fairy, but I couldn't stop this infernal yearning to be in her presence. I wanted to protect her, preserve her innocence. I wanted to fix everything for her.

I suppose that is why, after three days of arguing with myself, I ended up on the roof waiting for her.


	6. Evening Encounters

---

Christine

---

I was terrified that Monsieur DeChangy would come and ship me away to Sweden. I was scared Raoul would come and fetch me but after a few tentative days nothing had happened. I tied on the cloak deciding to go to the roof. Perhaps I would finally run into Erik again, though it seemed unlikely, or if not, at least I could sing without that horrid Carlotta laughing at me.

The roof was silent and dark tonight. No giant moon to light the smooth stone statues, and no stars to glimmer faintly like a backdrop. Clouds dominated the sky and shadows were everywhere. I hummed to myself as I made my way to the rose covered area.

"Christine Daae," my name seemed to spill from the night and I spun around looking for one man. The man in the mask. Erik. I stared rooted to the spot as he emerged from a dark shadow, his limbs rolling so smoothly as he approached that they seemed forged of different things, liquid things. I blinked my eyes to try to focus better as his cloak rippled behind him.

"Forgive me for intruding," he bowed doffing the black fedora from his head to reveal his perfectly combed hair. A million thoughts spun through my mind. Was he waiting for me? Why now? What for? He was impeccably dressed, spotless white gloves, high collared dress shirt, ascot and jacket, cloak and mask. I began to blush as I realized I was staring at him silently with my mouth open.

"I…I," I fumbled into the pocket of the cloak, "I cleaned your handkerchief." I held it out, reddening even more at how awkward I felt. His words and movements were so fluid, so smooth that I felt clumsy in comparison

"Thank you," he nodded but didn't move to take it from my hand. I lowered my hand slowly as his eyes locked on mine.

"There are a few things we must discuss," His eyes were terribly serious and direct, his voice soft but heavy with perfection in my ears. The white mask was bright even in the dim evening light and I found myself focusing on it instead of the rest of his face so I purposely shifted my gaze to the bare shadowed side of his face. "First off, there is the matter of security."

"Security?" I repeated blankly.

"I am supposed to be a ghost…" his hand curled in a graceful movement as if to say 'now do you understand?'

I did not. I blinked at him, while he continued to stare at me like he could force comprehension into me with his gaze.

"It would not do to have that myth dispelled…" his voice was slightly annoyed and I finally understood.

"Oh," my hand came to my mouth and I lowered my voice, "I would never tell anyone!"

He regarded me for a moment as if testing the truth of my words.

"See that you do not," he said curtly. "Secondly, there is the incident at the Masquerade." I instantly thought of Raoul with a little chill of fear. Oh Raoul, why did you have to find me and ruin the tiny scrap of peace that I'd wrung for myself?

"I must humbly ask for your forgiveness, as I did not mean to frighten you so."

"Oh," that surprised me, "You did not frighten me." At least I couldn't remember it…

"I did not?" he sounded slightly shocked but it was hard to tell when his face never changed expression.

"No, it was Raoul who…"

"The boy who accosted Mademoiselle Giry?"

"Yes, he must have…" I trailed off. What do I say? Should I bore him with the whole tale? I glanced at him and he looked angry but it could just be the expression frozen on that severe mask and the fact that he held his head in such a way that the rest of his face was covered in shadows. I turned around so I would not have to look at his odd mask and his perfect attire.

"When Papa died, Monsieur De Changy and Raoul, his son, paid for the funeral and bought me a train ticket home." It was easier to talk to him when I was not looking at him but the subject was not an easy one for me. "I couldn't go. Not to that house. It would have been sweet torture…" tears slipped down my cheeks. "I suppose they are quite angry with me for my deception."

"Please feel free to make use of my clean handkerchief," he said gently and I wondered how he knew I was crying, I thought I hid it well. I also wondered why I felt so at ease telling him this.

"I am sorry for your loss, Mademoiselle Daae," I wanted to tell him to call me Christine but I was suddenly choked by my tears and had to take a few deep breaths to control the urge to collapse in grief. When I had myself in order, I turned and looked at him again. He stood so still that he could have been carved from stone and he was wrapped in shadow like it was a second cloak that he wore.

"Thirdly," he continued as if half of our conversation had never happened, "What would you like to do about this boy, Raoul?" he said his name like it tasted bad and I was not sure what to say to this either. It sounded as if this Phantom, Erik, would do whatever I commanded of him but that was just absurd.

"I haven't a clue," I started slowly but my mouth likes to babble, especially when I'm nervous, scared, unsure…all of the above. "What can I do? I can not just send him away. I'm a single woman with no money, no home, no family, no father…" I began to panic. "He'll come again, maybe even with his father, and I'll have to go with him and he'll put me on that train and I'll have to go to that empty lonely house and…"

"Mademoiselle Daae," his voice sliced thru my frenzied words, chastising me for my hysteria. "If Raoul De Changy is trying to find you perhaps we ought to help?" I was pretty sure he did not mean that so I waited for him to continue with the best displeased look I could manage on my face. "We could spread a lie that you have moved on to another opera house and send him looking for a wild goose?" The idea was marvelous but looking at this man before me, my curiosity finally reached the breaking point.

He was supposed to be a ghost but, "Why are you helping me?" I blurted out.

He bristled like I poked him with a stick and I immediately was ashamed. "Not that I mind! That was ungrateful of me. I fully appreciate your help and your expertise. I lived alone with my father all my life, well, almost all my life. After Mama died, it was just the two of us and he didn't have many friends and he never got around to teaching me how to lose a Vicomte or apparently how to behave properly. Things I missed growing up I suppose…" I trailed off embarrassed by my ramblings and he was watching me with one eyebrow up in the air as if I was amusing him or confusing him.

"That was quite the incoherent ramble," he said very properly and I burned red as he turned and walked a ways away from me. I was going to beg him not to leave yet but he stopped and stood still for a minute or so before speaking again. "I am not the sort of gentleman you should acquaint yourself with." It sounded like he was sad and tired and the thought of the other gentlemen I'd met so far made my tongue start up again.

"Should I perhaps acquaint myself with one who slobbers on my hand and grabs my bottom when I pass…?"

"Enough!" his voice echoed loudly around us and I stopped wide-eyed as he turned quickly to advance towards me. "You would do well to remember all you have heard about me. You would do well to stay away from me." His voice was low and controlled as he stopped just in front of me, glowering. Indignation burned on my cheeks and I wanted to tell him he was the one waiting for me tonight but remembered my weeks of searching for him. Had he noticed that? Is that what he was talking about? I blushed shamefully and looked down at my toes.

"This discussion has digressed from its purpose," his voice came gently suddenly. "I came here this evening to offer you my aid. Anything you require I will provide. If you have need of me, there is a wooden box between the chairs in Box 5 that you can leave a note in. Other than that, I wish you a pleasant evening," he replaced his hat. "Do take care Mademoiselle Daae," he turned and the cloak swirled around him perfectly. I could hardly understand, let alone believe his speech and I did the only thing I could think of. I spoke his name out loud for the first time.

"Erik?" he froze mid-step and turned slowly to look at me from under the brim of his hat. His mood changes behind the frowning mask and his mesmerizing eyes suddenly made me nervous. "P-please call me Christine." I hated my childish stuttering.

He tipped his hat lower over his face until all I could see was his mouth. "As you wish…Christine," the golden throated Phantom spoke my name and a shiver travelled down my spine. I wondered if I should take back my request but immediately knew I would not. I could not bear to be so rude.

"When will I see you again?" I asked quickly before he turned to leave again.

He straightened and stood silent for a moment as if unsure what to say. He is supposed to be a ghost, I chastised myself, he doesn't want to see you again. He just wants to help the poor little ballet rat. 'Why?' my mind asked me but I stayed silent staring at my Phantom guardian.

"When would you like to see me again?" he asked slowly. I answered immediately.

"Tomorrow night?" he stared at me again as if confused by my answer and then he bowed low.

"As you wish," I waited for him to say my name again. I held my breath waiting for it but he turned away with another swirl of his lovely cloak. "Bon soir," he said instead and then I was alone.

As I readied for bed I replayed the conversation in my head, thinking I must have misunderstood when he said he would provide me with anything I require. Why would he be so nice to me? A chill rippled down my spine as I remembered Meg's words 'perhaps a manager wants your favor'. Did the Phantom want my favor? I immediately dispelled that rubbish. He didn't even want to touch me. I suppose he felt sorry for me is all. I remembered the way he got angry and shivered as I climbed into bed. My silly ramblings must have really annoyed him since he was so well spoken and proper.

'You would do well to remember all you have heard about me' he said. Was he trying to warn me that the rumors were true? I barely knew what to think about this whole situation.

I am a dancer in an Opera House

With a ghost who is a man

Who wants to help me

In any way he can.

I giggled at my silly rhyme and snuggled under the covers saying my prayers, and adding in one for a kind ghost.

- - -

The following night I came out onto the roof with trepidation. I'd ventured to ask some of the other dancers about Le Phantom and they all had wild stories about him. One girl said he left her ballet slippers when she couldn't afford new ones though no note was left with that gift, so it might not have been Erik. One girl said he was insane and liable to kill anyone who got in his way. One girl said she could hear music sometimes coming from somewhere below her room. Faint angry music. Meg said the managers took advice from him in regards to running the theater, which operas to run, which musicians to use and Madame Giry, when she overheard us talking, rapped her cane loudly and said angrily, "No more gossiping. Get in your places."

I was so unsure what to think or believe but I knew deep down that this man meant me no harm. Why would he want me to keep warm and take care if he meant to do away with me? Still I walked out into the open roof with slightly more caution than I would have had I not spoken to the other dancers.

His voice came from behind me, "Good evening Mademoiselle Daae."

I spun around to behold his dark towering frame held perfectly by the shadows around him. He was dressed as usual in full opera attire with his black black cloak and stark white mask; he bowed removing his hat as I turned.

"Please call me Christine," I reminded him, my recent trepidation comforted by his polite manners, "Mlle sounds so formal." He stared at me and slowly blinked as if he did not know what to say to that.

"How are you this evening, Christine?" he hesitated briefly before saying my name but it was just as magical.

"I am well," I smiled, "and you, Erik?"

He only blinked at me, once, twice….

"Unimportant. The seed of your departure from the Opera Garnier has been planted to grow swiftly. The young Vicomte will no doubt hear tell of it by tomorrow. If all goes as planned he will think you have fled Paris to find a new life in Italy. Whether he decides to follow or gives up entirely, you should be safe for awhile. When you begin to get roles in the corps, the De Changys will recognize you on stage however, as they are patrons. Hopefully by that point they will allow you to remain."

"Thank you," I didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say?

"My pleasure," he returned his hat to his head.

"Are you leaving already?" I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice. He was the most interesting person to talk to here. Well, Meg was fun but I felt like she was hiding things from me.

"Was there something else you required?" I felt my bottom lip protrude a little.

"No, I suppose not…" I trailed off feeling like a child and looked away. How could I tell him what I wanted was a friend.

"Farewell, Mademoi….Christine," I looked back up ridiculously pleased at my name on his lips.

"When will I see you again?" I asked with a smile.

The mask regarded me from the shadows and I wondered if he knew how mysterious he looked cloaked in darkness.

"When would you like to see me again?" he said slowly and I responded quickly, excitedly.

"Tomorrow night?" I was already thinking about coming up with some good questions to ask to keep him with me for longer.

"As you wish," he bowed politely and then turned away to disappear into the dark shadows behind him.

---

Erik

---

What was I doing? I wait all day to see her again, and then act like a toad and leave 2 seconds later? What was the point in that?

Why did she care how I was? Why did she continue to seek my company? Why was I putting myself at her beck and call? Here I was asking why again but this time it was asked with no bitterness. For a change I was bewildered and sort of awed, especially when in her presence. I had been pleased when she asked to see me again. Childishly gleeful at the thought of seeing those golden eyes gaze at me innocently. It was disgusting. She would run and hide if she knew the things I'd done.

I had no clue what to talk to her about. If she didn't ask me anything I didn't know what the devil to say. Why was I even agreeing to see her again and again? There was no point. It would just end badly.

I imagined myself saying wonderful things to her. That she was a radiant goddess, telling her I could teach her to sing like the angel she resembled and propel her to stardom. But it did not sit well with me. Then men would notice her tenfold and clamor for her and I selfishly wanted to keep her all to myself. I wanted her to see me as Erik not Le Phantom but I was never versed in casual conversation with a young woman or even how to treat them properly.

Besides, I did not deserve to be in her company. I was scum compared to her and the way she gazed at me like I was some amazing man, with supernatural powers. It made me want to retch. If she knew….if she only knew.

I should put a stop to this now. No more of this…nonsense.

---

Christine

---

The next day at practice I was entirely distracted trying to think of things to speak to Erik about. Mme Giry scolded me for my inattention but my mind was truly elsewhere. What can you talk to a man like Erik about? He wouldn't tell me about himself I was pretty sure, so maybe I should talk about my life? But would it bore him? I had lived a simple life until now. Was there maybe something else I should ask him for? He did say he would provide me with anything. But all I really wanted was someone to talk to me like Papa always did; someone to give me their attention and answer my silly questions. And to have a voice like Erik's answering my silly questions made a smile come to my mouth. I felt like it had been so long since I smiled.

As soon as night fell, I went to the roof. Everyone else was performing tonight but I didn't have a part yet so I was free to speak to my masked friend. But maybe he would be watching the performance…I hoped not.

I walked twice around the entire roof and no disembodied voice floated to me from the shadows so I found somewhere to sit and waited. About twenty minutes later a shadow moved to my left and Erik materialized from within it, scaring me half to death.

"Good evening, Christine," he said softly and I giggled nervously with a hand to my chest at his ability to pop in and out of nowhere.

"Oh, you scared me Erik. Can't you arrive like a normal person?"

"I am far from normal," he sounded sad when he said it.

"I know," I smiled up at him glad to see him again, "You are by far the most interesting person I have ever met." He quirked his eyebrow up at me and then looked away.

"You have no idea," he said so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

"Would you like to sit?" I offered. His eyes came back to me, his face and the mask so serious and the eyebrow went up again.

"I prefer to stand," was all he said. I took a deep breath and prepared to use my hard thought out conversation before he turned to leave.

"Have you been to India?" I asked earnestly.

"Yes."

"Have you seen a peacock?" those feathers had been dazzling and I was most interested in finding out, "What kind of glorious bird has feathers like that?" I asked before he even answered my first question.

"I will try to obtain a likeness of one for you," he answered without looking at me.

"Oh," I remembered his pledge. "You don't have to, Erik. It's not that important."

He turned to gaze at me with those soft shadowed eyes. "Do you not wish to know what kind of glorious bird has feathers like that?" His question was entrancing. Hearing my exuberant words repeated in his purring monotone had me sighing.

"Yes, I do," Papa always said I was the most curious little kitten.

"Then I will obtain a likeness for you," the issue was closed. I wanted to ask him to describe it to me in his flowing voice but swallowed the plea and looked down at my lap. I felt like I was bothering him.

"Would you be able to get me some writing materials?" I hated to use him this way but he glanced at me quickly.

"Of course, I will leave some at your door sometime in the next day." It felt slightly odd that he knew which room was mine but I had more things to say and it looked like he wanted to leave.

"I like to write down my thoughts." I waited for him to say something at my explanation.

"You do not have to explain to me why you need anything, simply ask and you shall receive," his hand curled gracefully and I smiled.

"Like you are my genie and I have unlimited wishes?" it seemed laughable to me but Erik's face was solemn.

"Whatever you need," I swallowed at his serious eyes. He studied me like he didn't understand me and I was a curiosity. I felt sort of like a specimen in an experiment but it was better than feeling like a piece of meat.

I took a deep breath to ask my last question.

"Could you teach me to sing?" his eyes sharpened, is the only way to describe it. They went from soft to hard at my question.

"Why do you want to sing?" he demanded. I reddened slightly because I partially wanted to learn, so I could show Carlotta up, but mostly to hear his voice and maybe hear him sing again. He did say he would give me anything…

"Papa said I had the voice of an angel and," I paused. Should I tell Erik about Carlotta, "Well, Carlotta said I sing like a sparrow. I thought I could sing but perhaps Papa was wrong." I shrugged breaking away from his intense stare. Silence echoed around us for a moment as I pressed my lips together wondering what he would say.

"I will do as you ask," he said evenly and the rest spilled out quickly and sharply. "I must go, Christine. Meet me here, tomorrow morning at seven. Dress warmly," and he disappeared before I could even respond.

---

Erik

---

Idiot.

You go up there with the intention of telling her goodbye and end these ridiculous evening encounters and instead agree to see her every two or three days for who knows how long?

Disgusting. You have no will power. You are weak.

Somehow even though I was apalled with myself I could not manage to be entirely displeased. I was modestly excited to train her voice. She had a beautiful instrument and not one idea how to use it.

She was also stunning to look at now that I'd stared for a good long time at her. Her rich golden brown hair tumbled in disorderly curls around her shoulders, her nose and chin petite and feminine, a pretty pink mouth that curved so easily into a smile and those golden orbs that shone with the radiant light of her soul. She was spectuacular.

Infinite beauty like hers was not meant to be seen by only a lonely ghost. She would bring the house down after a few months of my training. The one and only pupil of the Phantom of the Opera.


	7. Lessons

As I made my way to the roof the next morning, I was nervous. I was afraid he would tell me that he could not teach me, through no fault of his own, of course, but that my voice was not good enough. I walked across the lightening roof to the bench that I had sat on last night. There was a parcel waiting for me with a note attached. I quickly opened the parcel to find a ream of paper, some note cards and envelopes and half a dozen quills and ink. The top piece of paper had 'For your thoughts' written across it and I warmed at the reminder of our conversation and the evidence that though he required no reason for my desire for paper, he had been listening.

I opened the note card.

Meet me here this evening at ten o'clock sharp for your first lesson. Dress warmly. Erik

I went through practice in a daze and was scolded again by Mme Giry. She glared at me and reminded me that just because I debuted and the men seemed to like me did not mean she would cast me in the next opera. As I climbed the stairs again that evening I wondered where Erik lived. Did he climb just as many stairs to see me as I did to see him? Was it him who played angry music from the depths of the opera house? Why did he ask to see me this morning and then not come?

He was standing by the bench, waiting and slid a pocket watch into his jacket as I approached.

"If you are going to take these lessons seriously I expect a few promises from you," his voice was like a liquid purr sliding down my spine and his mask looked very bright and severe in the moonlight. "One, do try to be prompt; I hate to be kept waiting. Two, you will listen to and obey my every instruction. Lastly, if there are other people on the roof we will postpone the lesson to the following day."

He was finished talking but my brain felt like mush. His stern voice was exquisite to hear. It whirred in my ears like it could physically grab me to make me listen. Nothing else existed for me when he spoke. I was solely focused on his masked face, entirely enthralled by his voice and his mystery. He was darkly enticing and I prayed that I wasn't falling under the power of a dark lord. He was handsome in an odd sort of way and even though I couldn't see all of his face I knew he would never be ugly to me, regardless of what lay beneath that mask.

But I had left him standing with his requests unanswered for too long while I gazed at him mesmerized. I wanted him to know I was serious so I bowed my head sheepishly, "Forgive me for being tardy." I looked down at my toes embarrassed to hear the tremble in my voice.

"Very well let us begin."

The next hour went by swiftly and I did not sing a single note. He spoke at length about breadth and posture and I am not sure I heard everything he said. His voice tickled my ears in the oddest manner. It made it difficult to concentrate on during long speeches and I would start to almost glaze over at the rhythmic rise and fall of his perfectly exquisite voice.

"The ribs expand this way, like the wings of a bird," he put his white gloved hands on his own ribcage and demonstrated a few times. I nodded from my seated position. "Remember to hold the head high, and chest out. Posture will help with the clarity and quality of the tone you achieve. Your breath supports the voice. If you run out of breath the note you are seeking to reach will fall." He slipped his watch in and out fluidly and I stared at the simple elegant movement. "That is all for now, practice your breathing with the rib expansion. I will see you again tomorrow, same time."

I was shocked. This was a singing lesson?

"Shouldn't you hear me sing?" I asked stupidly and Erik looked at me with his one eyebrow raised as if I'd questioned his knowledge.

"That is unnecessary at this point," he spoke harshly.

"But how do you even know I can sing?" I didn't want to eventually disappoint him.

"Anyone can sing," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "But to truly sing like a divine being takes patience, practice, determination and skill. You must first learn to walk before running, you could say." His eyes raked over me and I felt exposed suddenly under his baleful glare. "Unless, of course, you do not require my instruction and in that case, by all means, sing." He was angry. One lesson in and I already question his methods. I bowed my head thoroughly embarrassed.

"Forgive me, Erik, please. I know nothing of the art." There was a pause so long that I thought maybe he had left but when I glanced up he was still standing there looking at me with those piercing eyes.

"If you truly wish to take this seriously I will not have you questioning me at every turn," his voice whirred with disapproval and I burned even hotter.

"Please forgive me," I whispered scared he would decide I was too much trouble, too cumbersome a job to teach this prattling young chick to sing. I held my breath, scared to move lest anything change his mind.

"You are forgiven," his voice changed no longer the lecturer, nor the formidable instructor but like a song on the breeze, music created by God's wondrous touch, a joy to behold.

"Practice your breathing and do not speak upon waking, it pulls on your vocal chords," he swirled the cloak from its resting place on a waist high stone wall. "Until tomorrow evening, Christine." He bowed to me as he always did and then strode away to the shadows where he often disappeared.

I sat trembling for a moment, not sure what vocal chords were but knowing I would never speak upon waking ever again.

---

Erik

---

I tossed aside my cloak and jacket, too warm by far in all of my clothes. Christine was just as beautiful and innocent as always but this time it felt very different because I was the one talking and her attention never wavered once from me. The way she gazed at me was unnerving, like she hung on my every word.

I'd planned to teach her as the sun rose so that it would be slightly warmer for her but as the roof had lightened; my courage had waned with the darkness. My pale ghostly skin, emphasized by the mask would probably fill those innocent eyes with fear. Better we keep meeting in darkness, my long time companion. Thank goodness I'd brought the paper for her or I would have had nothing to write her a note with.

I was not sure how a normal singing lesson went but I knew the human body, its limitations and its abilities, and figured that breath was the best place to start. Of course, then I got angry at her. Angry for questioning me. My temper was truly deplorable. She had bowed her head so submissively to me. A few disapproving words and she'd curled into herself so easily begging me for forgiveness. I sighed as I sprawled in my chair by the hearth. It had not been my intention at all to command over her like that.

I brooded by the empty fireplace for awhile more and went over everything I said tonight. It would not do to repeat myself.

I planned what I would speak to her about next and then rose to make some tea. I had to go out to the site tonight and work on the tiles in the washroom. The men were working hard to keep on schedule and I was beginning to fall behind. That would not do either.

---

Christine

---

I ended up on the roof almost half an hour early because I did not want to risk being late. I was nervous again, because I wasn't sure I'd practiced the breathing techniques correctly. Having only verbal demonstrations and a very muddled memory of that did not help me at all.

I was sitting on the same bench, twisting my fingers together when Erik showed up about twenty minutes later. I still thought in part of my brain that he had to be some sort of otherworldly being because of the way he moved and of course because of his voice. I watched him approach the garden, smoothly, fluidly checking his watch and tucking it away again all of his body in graceful harmony with some music I couldn't hear. My hands stilled as I shamelessly watched him and I could not tear my eyes from the flowing grace of his body in motion. I was therefore sitting most unladylike with my mouth open when he came around the trellis and saw me.

It was the first time I saw any emotion on his face as surprise flickered briefly before the solemn mask fell back into place and he bowed. "Good evening, Mlle Daae," he said and I managed to close my mouth before he straightened. "Let us begin immediately since you are already here," he jumped right into his instructor's tone. "Every lesson from now on will begin with questions about what was previously covered. If you have any questions then now is the time to ask." His one uncovered eyebrow arched upwards elegantly as if to say 'well?'

I did not want to speak. The fumbling in my mind was so at odds with his fluid speech but I knew I must.

"I d-do not b-believe I underst-todd the ribs like w-wings," I paused to try to stop the stuttering but was so nervous I clutched my braid in my hands. "I tried to p-practice but do not f-feel as if I achieved…"

"Christine," he stopped me with one word, with one flick of his hand and my name rolling off his tongue and out of his mouth like an entire song. I never wanted to hear anyone else say my name, only this odd, rude, solitary man. "You are stuttering," he said it like I could stop the shaking of my tongue and I felt myself begin to blush. "Are you well?"

"I feel I may disappoint you!" I blurted needing to get it all out. What if he laughed like La Carlotta? "I've never sung opera before. I may be terrible and just a waste of your time…" I trailed off because his expression still had not changed, not even the eyebrow went up. He did not rush to tell me I was wrong either. I very well might be wasting his time. After twelve loud thuds of my heart, his mouth moved and his voice whisked sharply through my ears.

"If I feel the lessons are a waste of time, I will not waste that time. Time is something you can never gain back." He took off his cloak in a large swirl of fabric laying it carefully over the same small stone wall as yesterday. He always sounded so sad but sort of poetic. "I can teach you to sing but I will do it as I see fit." He turned and looked at me with those remarkably striking eyes and when I realized I was staring I bowed my head again.

His dark brow over the light eyes was very unique and able to keep my own eyes captivated for a long time. His hair looked black all slicked back from his forehead with the lines of the comb still visible and I wondered what it would look like all messy. The uncovered side of his face was pale but unblemished and I wondered for the hundredth time how he could be ugly at all under his mask when the rest of his face was so nice to look at.

"I do want to learn," I said softly to break the silence. Why did I think that Erik was the kind of man to waste precious hours on fruitless endeavors?

"Very well," he said briskly, "If it was the expansion of the ribs you had trouble with, you will need to stand to practice this for now." He launched into a detailed description of the lungs and its mechanisms, how they worked and the different ways you could bring air into your body. He had me breathe into my stomach and into my chest and then feel the differences. He was thorough and we were both completely involved and the hour passed again without me singing a single note.

---

Erik

---

I watched her breathing deeply into her chest the proper way while expanding her ribs. I could understand how it would be difficult to do, if I had asked her before today how many ways there were to breathe, she would have said, I'm sure, only one. Breath was important, so I did not mind spending the extra time on it. If she understood the importance now then I would never have to go over it again later. It was simply the single, most easily fixed problem with many of the opera's singers. They lacked projection because they lacked breadth.

She was looking at me for approval and I nodded, "Continue. It must become second nature." I pulled out my watch feeling that the hour was close to over. Less than ten minutes. I slipped it back into my vest pocket and buttoned my jacket all the way back up again.

"Is it already time to stop?" she asked disappointedly and I felt a twinge of the same emotion in me. Spending this time with her was becoming enjoyable; the way she looked at me like I was normal was growing on me.

"It is close," I responded evenly. "I have some music for you." I turned to retrieve it from my cloak, "Can you read sheet music?" I was not sure how much or little she knew about music regardless of how perfect her voice was.

"Oh yes," she said, excitement easy to hear in her voice. "Papa taught me how…" the excitement died on her face and was replaced by the deep sorrow her father's passing had caused in her. I had to say something but once again felt like a child with no knowledge of the world and what to do in situations like this. I wanted to help her in every way that I could; mostly by distracting her from her pain.

"Most of the music is from Faust but I brought some from the next opera as well. Begin to memorize it and familiarize yourself with the songs." I held out the sheets towards her and when her glassy golden eyes rose to mine I realized I'd been quite rude and demanding. She blinked to hold back the tears and slowly took the music sheets from my hand before lowering her eyes to the ground.

"When is the next lesson?" and yet she continued to seek my company. She must be incredibly lonely to enjoy my abrupt ugly company.

"We will convene again on Monday night," another two days away but I already had my weekly plans tomorrow night.

Christine rose from the bench with the music clutched to her chest. "If that is all for tonight?" she trailed off her voice thick with unshed tears. I wanted to tell her not to cry. I wanted to say cry and hold her tightly as she did. I wanted to run away, far and fast from this pretty girl who was making me want to touch her very badly.

Bad, bad boy Erik!

"That is all for tonight," was all I could say and she nodded as she began to walk away.

"Good night Erik," I did not respond as she left, watching her try to hold herself together. Hearing my name on her lips was also quite pleasant and I stood there unmoving savoring the echo of it in my ears until she was gone from my sight.

Dinner with Nadir the following night was difficult. I kept thinking about Christine and how to cheer her on Monday. We finished our meal and proceeded to the conservatory to play some chess by the fire.

"You have been very quiet tonight, Erik," a statement to ask a question. Nadir was always interrogating me and I smirked as I took his last bishop.

"Thinking about the house," I lied smoothly. We were in the middle of a build and I should have been thinking about the house but instead my thoughts ran towards a sad sweet girl.

"It is going very well. Three weeks ahead of schedule with the weather so decent," he moved his queen to protect the king. "Have you finished the fireplace yet?"

I should have had it finished by now, especially since the rest of construction was so far ahead of schedule but I had been quite distracted from my work. I usually went at least every second night to the site and got a few things done but last night was the first time I'd gone all week. I had my next move but stayed still so I could think.

I was not comfortable telling Nadir about Christine yet. He would tell me to stop seeing her, and though part of me agreed with him I could not bring myself to leave her alone to grieve again. I seemed to distract her nicely from her pain and I didn't mind playing the role of her instructor. If her lessons continued, Nadir would eventually have to know of my affiliation with her. I could not hide her from him forever but maybe just for a little while longer.

I trapped Nadir's queen and spoke, "Not quite and I have you in two moves."

"What?" he examined the board. "What if I do this?" he moved his rook and I took it.

"Precisely what I hoped you would do."

"Oh, you have me," he tipped his king and I rose to fetch him some sherry while he reset the board.

"Did you change the plans again?" he asked and my brow furrowed as I poured.

"Which plans?" what was he talking about?

"For the fireplace!" he sounded exasperated, "Really Erik, your mind is elsewhere tonight." I glanced over my shoulder but he was still setting the board. Okay, get it together; put her out of your mind. Fireplace.

"Just some minor adjustments that are almost completed," I said noncommittally. "It will be done by Tuesday," if I worked all night tonight and Monday after the lesson.

"How many times did you change the mantelpiece?" he asked smiling and at ease as he took the glass I offered him.

"I still have not decided." He laughed lightly.

"Don't fret so much. Whatever you choose will be perfect, it always is," he drank to that, tipping his glass in my direction. I usually had a small glass with him but if I was going to pull two long nights out of my architectural hat then I should probably not imbibe.

"I think I am at a further disadvantage to play you while I drink," Nadir commented mildly, eyeing the board and I moved the chess table aside.

"Shall I play for you?" since his house was outfitted with this grand conservatory and he did not play himself, I could at least fill it with music for him once a week. I warmed up with a simple piece full of stretching and staccato to nimble the fingers. He always liked to hear my own music. I hadn't played for him in awhile because of my dark moods but I hoped my music wouldn't be too oppressive tonight. He always tried to get me to write more, saying it was the most creative music he had ever heard. So, when my warm-up was done I played from my mind. It was a slow mournful beginning, desolate and bleak when suddenly a light shines through the darkness. Hope breathed into my fingers and the notes sang of new found life, dreams come true and destinies fulfilled. But it cannot last forever, the light will always dissipate and darkness reigns once more.

As the last note died I took a deep breath. That had been almost pleasant, and it made me think of Christine. She was full of light herself and there was no one and nothing else that could have affected me thusly.

"Very good, Erik," the curt somewhat encouraging remark was Nadir's usual response to my music. As a boy it had made me turn excitedly to ask if he was sure, but now when he said it I always felt jaded. There was nothing good about me and that boy had been beaten out of me because of him.

"Thank you," I replied feeling suddenly very tired. I closed my eyes. I had to get that damn fireplace done, figure out how to cheer Christine, plan the next few lessons, start drawing up the next house, visit that site to see what would be needed to get the ground ready…and that was just the start.

I took my leave from Nadir's inviting home and rode back to the opera in his carriage with eighteen different things on my mind.

---

Monday's lesson went well, and so did Tuesday's, Thursday's and Saturday's. She was learning very quickly and was a marvelous singer. Teaching her was easy to do and I began to enjoy our time together quite a lot. Our lessons continued three or four times a week with regularity. She was happy to see me almost every time, I could tell by the wide smile on her face when our eyes met. Sometimes she would be nervous she hadn't practiced correctly but her myriad of questions always solved the problems. Sometimes she was very melancholy and I knew her 'Papa' was on her mind. Once you have witnessed someones grief first hand, it is easy to spot. Sometimes instead of questions she would regale me with the happenings of her day and I began to realize that she considered me her friend. No matter that I was strict, curt and direct in all my instructions, no matter that I showed her no emotion as she spoke or as I taught her, no matter that a mask covered half my face. She was impervious to it all, so great was her goodness. How ironic that someone as precious and good as Christine had to turn to me for companionship. But I could see how different she was from the other girls. Insanely curious and so sweet you could practically taste it on your tongue. Gustave Daae did not leave a daughter behind when he died, he had left behind an angel.

I debated telling Nadir. He was the only other person in my life and maybe he could shed some light on how I should continue. I could not allow her to think of me as a friend, could I?

As we sat down to dinner the following Sunday I broached the subject. I waited until it was only him and I in the dining room.

"I've been teaching Mlle Daae to sing." Nadir coughed as if he inhaled his drink. "I should have stayed away from her, I know," I raised one hand to fend off his argument. "I do not wish to be lectured."

Nadir gave me a look. The one that asked me a thousand questions while he said nothing at all. I complained of lectures but it was mostly his eyes that lectured me. Finally he picked up his utensils and said only, "Is she well?"

If I was the kind of person to laugh I probably would have but instead my lips only twitched. "She is. I wanted you to know we have become…" this felt so awkward suddenly and I cleared my throat, "friends I suppose." It seemed odd to say I had a friend at all.

Nadir nodded like he was thinking as he chewed some food. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Is there some reason you decided to tell me now?" He always asked the most pressing questions. Questions I had trouble answering.

"I noticed she has become…fond of me. No not fond, she enjoys my company is all," I waved my hand irritably, annoyed by the personal confession. I wanted her to be fond of me. "I am loathe to end our companionship now. She is so alone…" I trailed off again. I was alone too. Another emotional plea for her to notice me. Weak imbecile.

"Will you bring her for dinner next week?" my eyes narrowed at him.

"Why? So you can make sure I am telling the truth?" I asked angrily.

Nadir put down his wineglass and sighed. "Why would you lie to me, Erik? I only thought she could have a nice dinner for a change." He wanted to say more but he swallowed his words with more of the wine from his glass.

Through the rest of dinner we spoke of other things. I felt bad for getting angry at him. He was always kind and patient with me. Ever since I was a boy he had been the one calming presence in my life, the one person to treat me respectfully. In payment for my service in his home I was given the education worthy of a prince. Under his safe guidance I had come from the shell my childhood abuses had drawn around me. I learned so many things, anything I wanted; languages, arts, music, literature, architecture, science and then he had given me away to the Shah. The years away from him in Persia had been the worst years of my life, they had changed me from the boy I had been. Away from his home and away from him, I had learned how to kill or be killed. I had learned to starve and endure pain. I had learned to hate myself and my face. I had learned to be very angry. But still when I got angry at him it left me feeling sick.

I left early not feeling up to chess or music. "Thank you for dinner." I said politely as I made for the door.

After a short pause Nadir mentioned her once more. "Is she any good?" I stopped with my hand on the door and though dark thoughts had consumed my mind through the end of dinner a small smile tugged at my lips.

"Very good."


	8. Guest

Erik

---

I brushed off my hands as I surveyed my empty spare room. I had finally finished going through all of my extra belongings and paring them down. All the books were added to bookshelves; the rugs hung or lay in new homes around the underground cave I called home, some of them replacing old ones that were worn. The special little trinkets were scattered throughout and some crates of random things sat by the exit waiting to be discarded. All that remained were dusty corners to be cleaned. I was done for tonight. I extinguished the candles in the now empty room wondering how long it would take to fill it again.

I bathed wanting to rid myself of the dust before retiring and prepared the drink that would allow me to sleep. I took it every few days, as it would allow me a long recuperative rest. Otherwise my sleep was fitful at best and horrendous at its worst. I was constantly plagued by nightmares in which I was the star and they didn't help me to sleep very well. I would wake hourly, with a racing heart, like my life was in danger.

I suppose it was bred into me.

I poured the hot valerian tea and added two ounces of laudanum. I was constantly increasing the dosages of both the drug and the herb and wondered if I wasn't careful I might one day not wake up. My hands stilled at the thought of Christine waiting for me in the cold for her lesson and then I picked the cup up and drank some, burning my tongue in my haste to banish the surge of emotion I felt when I thought of Christine.

It was no use though, thoughts of her easy smile and sweet personality filled my mind and I growled as I stalked into my bedroom. Her innocence and childlike trust made me want to follow her around the opera like some dark shadow to make sure she was always safe. If she could trust me then she would trust anyone! But then I would argue with myself that she was not mine to care for and I therefore had been doing anything to keep from spying on her, day and night. I got a lot of work done in the last few weeks. Cleared out the spare room, sorted through everything, caught up with my work at the house and even started the plans for the next house but nothing could shut her out of my mind.

Regardless that I stayed away from her for now, I could still feel the pull to be near her, to be in her presence, to hear her voice and see her smile.

I drank the rest of the foul drink quickly to make all my thoughts and arguments disappear so I could get some blessed sleep.

---

Christine

---

I was looking forward to seeing Erik tonight. Sometimes I wished we could meet every night because seeing him always made me feel better. I don't know if it was security or friendship that made me calm in his stoic presence but whatever it was, I was looking forward to it tonight. Rehearsal had been terrible today. My head had been somewhere in the clouds and everyone had laughed when I stumbled during a simple step. Judging from the glares I was getting from Mme Giry I had more chance getting a role as a singer than a dancer in the next opera.

I opened the closet to take out the cloak when someone knocked on my door. I was about to ask 'who is it?' when a man called out, "Christine?" and I froze. Raoul!

Has he finally come to take me away? I stepped into the closet and pulled the door closed as quietly as I could. I heard muffled talking in the corridor. Was Monsieur De Changy with him? My door opened and I vowed to never leave it unlocked again. I watched Raoul walk in and look around through the gap in the doors.

"You are sure, woman? Christine Daae?" I could not see the other person because they stayed in the hall but I heard her say, "Oui monsieur."

"Well she's not here," he walked back out closing the door and I heard him say, "I'll come back later," before the door shut.

I stayed in the closet for a few minutes shaking and too scared to leave. 'I'll come back later?' what did later mean? An hour? A day?

I cautiously opened the closet door and peeked out as if the door to the hall would burst open at any second. I hurriedly threw on my thin jacket and the luxurious cloak with an added scarf to hide my hair completely. I slowly opened my bedroom door and peered up and down the corridor. It was empty, as it usually was when I went to meet Erik. I began to run towards the stairs and then realized they could have come this way too and I stopped dead. I would catch right up to them. I took a few breaths to calm myself. Why was I so panicked? It's not as if Raoul and Mr De Changy would tie me up and throw me on a train without asking me if I wanted to stay. But I still felt panicky. I was still a child in so many ways and did not know what to do in so many situations. I never had to care for myself before because Papa was always there to take care of things for me. Did I have the right to demand I be allowed to stay? Could they really make me go? I was eighteen and did have my position here, for now at least, and I wanted to stay.

My breath started to come faster as I started walking towards the stairs. Mr De Changy would never allow me to stay in the dormitory. He would offer me a place at his home if I told him I wanted to stay here in Paris. He was Papa's friend, he would listen to me and let me decide. At least I hoped he would but it was Raoul who kept coming here and Raoul made me nervous. I didn't know why but when ever I saw him I felt cold. Why was only Raoul searching for me? Why was he here so late at night? Why did he not come before this? Did he believe I'd gone to Italy and only now discovered the lie 5 weeks later? All these unknowns and all these questions and the thing that made the panic surge the most was this.

If they made me leave the opera I would never see Erik again. I would miss the sound of his voice terribly and the solemn expression the mask and his handsome face combined created. I would miss our lessons and his graceful movements, his courteous bows and his pronunciation of my name. I couldn't even think about not seeing him ever again. I hoped he knew what to do about this new predicament because I was scared and had no clue.

I opened the door to the roof and called out right away, "Erik!" please be here already. He stepped out from some shadows, regal in his tailored clothing and I hurried over to him. He must have seen the panic on my face because he reached out for me. He'd never purposely touched me before and I went dumbly silent in awe of his long elegant graceful hands gripping my upper arms through the thick cloak.

"Christine? What has happened? Are you okay?" he was concerned, his eyes worried in an instant and I stared speechless at the show of emotion on his face. "Christine?" his grip tightened painfully and I gasped. He released me quickly and I realized he had almost been picking me up off the ground with just his hands. His face smoothed into its normal expression and he commanded, "Tell me what has you in such turmoil."

I could barely breathe, as if his hands had been squeezing my lungs and not just my arms but I did as he commanded, like I always did, and told him.

---

Erik

---

She told me how she hid in her closet when her room was invaded. Raoul, I sneered in my head, as I wondered why I held so much hatred for a man I'd yet to meet.

"I don't know why they want me to leave. Can't I just tell them I don't want to go? Will they listen do you think? I need to make them understand I can't go back," her voice was painfully strained and the teacher in me wanted to tell her to calm down but in the darkest corner of my mind I was panicking myself.

Could I keep her safe from this?

"I don't know what to do, Erik" her face was pleading with me and if I hadn't just handled her so roughly she might have actually clutched me seeking comfort. The thought of both those events sent tremors through me.

I turned away from her and put more distance between us to try to deny the urge to take her down below and tell her she could come hide in the darkness with me. She could be the little piece of sunshine that lit the dark inside me. She obviously could not take care of herself. She needed someone to take her under his wing. Why could it not be me? Let me preserve your light in my darkness. I will keep you safe.

It was painfully obvious to me that I did not want to lose her from my life. My juvenile arguements rose to the surface. I was the one who found her. I was the one who helped her. She came to ME for help. Why could I not take her down below to keep her safe? Not that she was really in danger. Would they let a young girl decide her own future? Is that how things were done? How the devil was I supposed to know?

I was all she had and was it not my duty as her appointed guardian, as her teacher and friend, nay, as a gentleman to do all in my power to keep her safe from any threat that she felt, regardless of how silly it may be? She needed me to keep her safe. She asked me to help her.

I did have an empty room after all.

---

Christine

---

He stood with his back to me, tensed and silent. I did not know what he was thinking but I could practically see the wheels turning. He would help me. He would.

Relief washed over me and I relaxed, sitting down on the bench as my legs wobbled. Hearing Raoul's voice had scared me and I was glad I had someone to turn to, someone to care for me. What if I had never met Erik? Panic welled back and I raised my eyes to stare at him. I found it so pleasing to watch the way he moved that I always ended up staring at him like a daft child. Even now, standing perfectly still, he had an air about him. He commanded my attention in all his impeccable attire wrapped around his tall lean frame. He knew how to dress himself and from what I could tell, money was no object. Where did he come from? Why was he here pretending to be a phantom instead of living a normal life as a wealthy married man? Why did I continue to stare at him even as he turned businesslike to address me?

"Would you like to come and stay with me, Christine?" My mouth dropped open even more before I snapped it shut and thought about it. It was grossly improper for me to stay with a young man like Erik all alone. But the thought of being around him even more was tempting and then Raoul could not send me away.

"I don't want to be a bother to you," I looked down at my toes. I felt like such a child as I sat there, head bowed, waiting for his next words, waiting for safety to come carry me away.

"Do you have any idea where I live?" the question caught me off guard. He had never spoken to me of his home. He's never told me anything about himself. Were the rumors true?

"Do you live below the opera?" I asked feeling silly as I peeked up at him. He gave a curt nod before repeating his question.

"Would you like to come and stay with me, Christine?" was it my imagination or was my name softer, this time, gentler.

Answering out loud seemed wrong somehow and my cheeks reddened as I said, "Yes," quietly and a little guiltily. There was a lull in time where Erik stood so still staring down at me and my cheeks burned in the silence, then he was in motion. He swirled the cloak from its resting place and spoke quickly and authoritatively.

"Preparations will have to be made. It may take a few days. I will send word. Your lessons will have to wait."

My heart fluttered and I stood, grateful, relieved, "Thank you, Erik…"

He just looked at me and then turned without his customary bow. He left without another word his face like stone and I wondered if I just made him mad. Was I really annoying him? Asking him for all these things and bothering him all the time? I stared at the spot where he always disappeared and felt terrible. I just kept demanding more and more of him, like he really was my personal genie. I sighed and covered my face.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't grateful for his offer and excited. What would his home look like? What would it be like to see him relaxed in his house?

I quickly made my way back to my room and firmly locked my door. Even safely behind a locked door I barely slept. Who had told Raoul this was my room and that I was here?

The next day I kept glancing out into the empty audience while we practiced wondering if I would be abducted before Erik could come to my rescue. I hid in Meg's room the second night and listened to her gossip about one of the girls, only interrupting her once to ask if missing practice when you didn't have a part was allowed.

"Oh sure," she waved me over to help her with her hair, "Maman likes us to practice everyday just in case she needs an understudy but I can tell her you need a few days." She eyed me in the mirror, "You haven't been dancing well lately anyway." I blushed and nodded.

"Things on my mind," I mumbled and kept my eyes on Meg's hair. I braided the long wavy blond hair and tied it off for her before looking in the mirror again. She was scrutinizing her face and I noticed the vast differences in our looks. Her bright blue eyes made my light brown ones look dull and her shiny blond hair made mine look dirty. I pulled my braid over my shoulder self-consciously to play with the end as she rose and twirled her wrapper on to cover her perfectly curved body. It was no wonder everyone loved her. I looked away feeling like a child again. The only person who really paid me any mind only did so out of pity and if I wasn't careful I was going to drive him away by being so annoying. He didn't want me tripping around him all the time, prattling on with my stupid questions.

"So, where are you going?" Meg asked.

"To visit a friend," it wasn't a lie. Erik was my friend.

"Hmmm, do you think I should cut my hair?" she asked holding up the waist long braid and I was glad she changed the subject.

"No your hair is beautiful," I curled up on the second bed in Meg's room as she argued why she wanted to cut it. She had the largest room and usually her clothes resided all over the second bed but she didn't mind clearing it for a friend. I smiled at her glad I'd met her as well.

"If you do cut it can I have it?" I asked jokingly and we laughed and talked until it was time to sleep and I said my prayers in my head, thanking God for sending me Erik and Meg.

The next morning when I returned to my room there was an envelope sealed with an intricate red wax treble clef wedged half under the door. I broke the seal quickly knowing it had to be from Erik.

If you still require my assistance meet me at the east gate at eight o'clock. Erik

Eight o'clock was the start of the performance and everyone would be inside watching or performing while I would travel down to the cellars below to stay with the Phantom. I felt oddly exhilarated and put the note card with the others safely in my drawer. He truly was providing me with anything I requested. I didn't understand why but I knelt to thank God and to ask forgiveness for my actions; for using a kind man like Erik in such a way. I prayed for guidance, direction and strength and then I began to pack.

---

Erik

---

I looked down at my pocket watch again and saw that a minute had barely passed. Was time standing still? It was still five minutes to eight though I was sure five minutes must have passed. My stomach twisted.

What would it mean if she did not come? That she did not need my help or did not want it? But then what if she actually came?

What would she think of my home? Of her room? The clothing? Did I buy her too much? Probably.

I did not want her to think I wanted anything other than friendship from her. I was just taking care of her. Yes, that was all.

I rolled my eyes at this weak craving for her to like me and looked at the watch again. Had it stopped?

I was restless with adrenaline and wanted to move around but I was hiding in the shadows by the east gate just waiting. It's your own damn fault for coming thirty minutes early. You could have wasted some time eating something seeing as you haven't eaten anything in two days; haven't done anything except prepare a room for a princess.

I heard footsteps echo down the street and looked up far too eagerly to see Christine pass through the gate and stop. She was carrying a small bag and wearing the first hat I'd ever seen on her head. She looked around tentatively as if I might spring from any of the shadows around her. I tucked the watch away and took a deep breath checking my lapels and buttons.

"Let the show begin," I said under my breath and stepped out into the dim streetlight.

Christine relaxed when she saw me and I still marveled at that as she made her way towards me quickly. I should have marched forward to take her bag but I was nervous, so nervous that my usually cold hands felt too warm within my gloves and my feet were rooted to the spot. She stopped in front of me smiling.

"Good evening, Erik."

I bowed to her slipping into the formalities, "Mademoiselle Daae. May I take your bag?" She held it out and I reached out to take it and our hands brushed innocently but the touch felt like fire to me. Christine stared at her feet and I was glad momentarily for her shyness because I needed a moment to reign myself back in. Even through the gloves we both wore, her gentle fingers sent lightning up my arm.

"Thank you for helping me," she reached up as if to grab some of her hair but it was piled on her head, under her hat, twisted into some sort of bun and her hands fell back down to clasp one another instead.

"Of course," I turned abruptly, "Let us continue on." This was a bad idea, the voice in the back on my head chanted at me. With her around you all the time how will you control the pull towards her? I won't need to, I told myself mildly, because it will be quenched, I will be in her presence and have her attention and then I won't feel this yearning to seek her out. She will be in the next room. Safe, secure…

"You really live under the opera house?" her voice came softly from behind me as I reached the access door down to the lake. She sounded so curious, so adorable.

"Yes," I stopped to consider her over my shoulder, "Will that be a problem?" Her eyes widened.

"No, no, I just…" her hands fluttered looking for her hair and then they clasped each other again. Was I making her nervous tonight? "Why do you live down there?"

I turned to open the door. She was going to drive me crazy with her questions.

"I have found accommodations above ground, where other people dwell, to be less than accommodating," no one trusts a man in a mask. No one, oddly except this beautiful young girl. I opened the door for her and she walked through looking everywhere at once. I stood there with the door and her bag in hand and stared at her. She was breathtaking. Her open curiosity, her total trust in me…

I turned to lock the door closing my eyes briefly. I was insane for opening my cave to her but I could not take it back now. I took the lamp from the wall as I turned back to face her and found her staring at me.

"Do you not like people?" she asked completely serious and troubled by this question and annoyingly, I felt compelled to answer her truthfully, even though my answer would lead her somewhere I did not particularly want to go.

"My mask makes people nervous," I stated simply and she nodded slowly, her eyes on my face, as if she could understand. We stared at each other for a silent moment and I cursed myself again for being so weak. This was going to be vastly different from her lessons. I knew how to act for those business meetings that occurred at appointed times where I lectured or taught and she listened and obeyed. Now she was going to question me to death and I had invited her to do it! I couldn't expect her to remain silent unless I invited direct conversation. Asking her to do that would be rude, Erik.

"Shall we continue down?" I asked quietly, trying not to notice how much it meant that she didn't ask to see my face. An angel like her should never have to see such a monstrosity and I did not want to see terror on her face. "Can you manage the stairs?" my hands were full but perhaps she would need help? I held up the lantern so she could see the first few stairs and see how steep and big they were.

"Oh," she looked past me down into the darkness that I called mine, "I will be fine as long as you walk in front of me, that way, if I slip I'll hit you before I hit the stairs." She turned to dazzle me with a smile, her eyes bright in the dim stairway.

"Very well," I said as I turned back, stunned by the charmingly sweet, funny girl that had somehow become a part of my life.

We walked down in silence, only the slap of our shoes, and the swish of our garments to echo off the stone walls. I glanced back only once to check on her progress which I consider an enormous restraint on my part. I kept thinking that I would wake from this impossibility; that she was not real and meeting her was just a terrible dream I would eventually wake from. It was ludicrous that I outfitted my spare room with the intention of having a guest. Not just any guest but Christine Daae. What was I doing bringing her down to my dungeon?

We reached the dock and I hopped down effortlessly, hanging the lamp from the hook at the bow and placing her bag carefully in the bottom. I turned to help her in with butterflies in my stomach. She was staring at the boat openmouthed.

"You take a boat to your home?" she reached for my hand and I gave it like I knew what I was doing when really I had no clue.

"Swimming would ruin my clothes," I concentrated on her questions instead of her dainty grip on my hand. She laughed lightly and stepped into the boat, lifting the hem of her dress carefully.

"It seems very exciting," she looked out over the water as she sat down and folded her hands primly in her lap. She looked up at me expectantly and I turned away to unmoor the boat and nervously sat to row.

"I suppose I got a little carried away when it came to the security of my home. A cavernous castle, in a building full of music, beyond the underground lake," was I babbling? I could not tell. What did I just say? An underground castle? Hardly.

Christine sighed and looked out over the water as we glided across. I waited for her to say something, ask one of her many questions, but she remained silent staring at nothing over the water. We proceeded in silence and I grew restless. Usually we had so many things to say but I could not for the life of me think of anything to fill the oppressive silence and Christine was staring at nothing, lost in thought . One minute turned to two, and two to three and before my brain struggled to life we were almost across.

"We are almost across," I broke the silence, my voice loud and harsh compared to the soft lap of water on the sides of the boat.

"Oh," Christine sat up straighter and shook her head like she was coming out of a trance. She gripped her hands tightly together, "Thank you again, Erik. It means a great deal to me that you would open your home to me." Her voice was so sweet as she stared down at her hands that it did not feel right to just brush off her words with a curt 'of course'. Instead I said nothing as I reached out and grabbed the edge of the small dock and tied the boat off.

Here we are at my sanctuary, at my hiding place, at my home?

---

Christine

---

While Erik moored the boat I glanced around the darkness. I couldn't see a door anywhere but then it was quite dark but for the circle of light cast by the lamp. I have never liked the dark. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. You never knew what could hide waiting for you in the dark. But this was Erik's dark and he hid here, I now knew, because of his face. Why didn't he trust me? No matter how terrible his face was I would not shun him. But I didn't have to courage to ask or to tell him he could trust me.

"Do you need help out?" his white gloved hand uncurled in front of my eyes and I glanced up as I took his hand to rise from the wobbly boat. His hand tensed as mine tightened and I remembered when I'd touched him at the mask. Did he not like to be touched? I stepped to the small dock and dropped his hand. I didn't want to annoy him anymore then I already was.

"Thank you," I murmured quietly trying in reign in my insane curiosity and just be thankful that he offered me his protection.

"Careful on the walkway, it can get slippery," he warned and I looked past him at the barely visible dirt path.

"Of course," I was eager to see his home, his castle. Papa always called our home, our castle. Strange that Erik would say the same thing.

I wondered what Papa would think of my choices. Not returning home, running from Raoul and taking comfort in words spoken by a talented masked man who lived in an underground home. Papa did love a good story.

I stopped when Erik stopped and watched his cloak lift and drop with the wind. How could there be wind down here? I glanced around but could barely see around me. Fear prickled up my spine and I shuddered taking a step closer to Erik. Something brushed my shoulder and I froze. I knew that eight-legged sensation.

"Erik," my voice was a frightened whisper and he looked over his shoulder quickly his mask still bright white in the darkness, as if it held light within it. "Is there a spider…" I never finished my question because the giant spider decided to crawl to my neck and when its hairy legs touched my bare skin I fell in a dead faint.


	9. Confrontation

Erik

---

I stood in the kitchen rubbing the back of my neck waiting for water to boil.

Here we are.

Christine was in her room, safely ensconced behind my stone walls, unconscious. I did not know what to do. Should I have tried to wake her?

When she fainted I barely had time to catch her before she hit the dirt. I'd swung her up into my arms easily and then stood holding her in front of the door to my lair for endless minutes. I do not know how long I stood there feeling her delicate weight in my arms, looking down into her innocent face and arguing with myself. I could take her back to her room and just pretend that this never happened, that I never offered this. What did I know of preserving light? I lived in the dark. I hid in the dark. I was the dark.

She was innocence and light and she would be shattered when she learned more about me. But she was so alone and had no one to care for her…

I put her on the bed that I had purchased for her and pulled the knit coverlet over her before hastily leaving the room.

She was so insatiably curious that I knew she would eventually pry everything from me and I had no ability to say no to her. Would any girl hold this kind of control over me or was I only weak when it came to this precious child. Maybe it was because she was so good that I envied her and wanted to share a little piece of it with her. Maybe it was because her voice was a golden instrument gifted by God himself and I had been given the chance to mold it perfectly. Maybe it was because I was so insanely lonely and desperate for a reason to go on and she gave me company and a reason all rolled into one. She needed a guardian and I did not mind playing that role for her.

I poured the hot water through the coffee press. I had not slept in days and was beginning to feel the strain of it. First would come the headache and then the shaking. If I didn't want to fall ill I would have to find time to sleep at some point while she was here but for now I would try to stay awake. I briefly thought of dinner with Nadir last night and grimaced. He'd asked about Christine again and I felt terrible for my subterfuge but should I tell him I was busy outfitting my spare room so she could come stay with me? I think not. He'd also commented that I looked fatigued but not sleeping and working all through the night to complete Christine's room, as well as running half way around Paris to buy her assorted things she may need had taken it's toll. I'd lied to him again but I don't think he quite believed me this time. Nadir, though, mostly respected my privacy. He never pried or demanded answers, he would just look at me with those questioning eyes and I would feel ashamed.

I poured the coffee and loosened my ascot. Would she sleep through the night? It was only nine but perhaps all the late night lessons had caught up with her. The spider that had crawled on her was also quite large and hairy and I'm sure would frighten any young girl into a faint.

Would she faint if she saw my ugly face? I wondered as I made my way to the piano, sipping the hot coffee carefully. It had taken a few masks to cover my lip effectively and still allow me to drink and eat. My mother's version had covered most of my mouth making even speech difficult. I was not allowed in her presence without the mask and couldn't eat with it on so I had taken all my meals in the broom closet, shut away like an animal on the floor. My heart rate began to accelerate and I quickly sat at the piano to keep myself from spiraling on the memory staircase into hell. Soft pretty music, delicate notes, floating rhythms, breezing through my fingers helped pull the dark curtain back over my memory.

No feeling. No emotion. No pain. Just music.

---

Christine

---

I was moving through water, drifting to the surface, pulled upwards by the most beautiful music. It weaved a story of a sunny day waiting for me in the flowered fields with Papa and his violin….

I sat up with a gasp clutching fabric to my chest. The room was dim and unrecognizable. Panic surged forward and piano music swelled comfortingly from behind a closed door. My heart skipped. This was Erik's home!

I breathed a few times to let the muscles relax as I realized I was safe. I went to meet him and there was a boat and the spider…

I shuddered and brushed at my skin surprised to find I had my gloves on. I did stock and quickly swung my shoes out of the soft bed. He laid me in bed with all my clothing on?

I immediately reddened thinking about him removing my jacket and shoes for me while I slept. I was glad he had not. I looked around the room interested and eager to learn more about my mysterious singing teacher, as I myself removed my jacket.

It was a large room, the rock walls covered with hung carpets and draperies. There was one particular rug that was woven in an odd intricate pattern. The more I looked at it the more I liked it and I smiled as I laid my jacket on the bed. I pulled my gloves off and laid them on the powder table beside a beautiful hairbrush and box. I walked to the second door and opened it to find a full bath made of some peach colored stone, glowing dimly in the light from a single lamp. It looked like a ladies bath with fresh flowers and a tray full of glass bottles.

Whose room was this?

I turned a circle taking in the bed, nightstand, powder table and chair complete with a brush. My gaze passed over the dresser and wardrobe. I crossed to the door and pulled it open. It was full of clothes, all of them expensive ladies garments, dresses, shoes, hats, skirts, shirts, coats, a small fortune in quality woman's clothing. I closed the door quietly and backed away.

Was I in a dead woman's room or was she only vacant from her room so I could be here?

Did Erik have a wife that he'd never mentioned? I suddenly felt very foolish and naïve. I know nothing about this man. The most I'd ever learnt had occurred on the trip down here. Did he have a family he never told me about? I wasn't important enough to know. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I trust him to the ends of earth and back and he won't even introduce me to his family?

He had mentioned preparations and looked so very annoyed as he left. Did he put his lady up in a hotel while I got over my silly fears hiding down here with him? Tears filled my eyes as I felt a hundred times more foolish. Erik must think I'm a complete idiot.

I opened the dresser drawers, finding everything a young lady would need except for undergarments. The top drawer, which was usually reserved for those, was empty except for some handkerchiefs. I pulled one out and blotted my eyes; they were the match to Erik's blank expensive one but with floral embroidery in one corner.

He had a lady that he never told me about. I felt betrayed looking at this opulent room, thinking of its missing inhabitant. I knew Erik wouldn't reveal all his secrets to me but I'd assumed he was as alone as I was. This room suggested otherwise. And he didn't trust me to introduce me to her.

I opened the door to the piano music and came out into a living area, complete with a dark leather couch, an armchair, writing desk, bookshelves, fireplace and a large piano. Erik turned on the piano bench letting the music fall into silence. He'd removed his jacket and his ascot was loosened but he still wore the mask and gloves, that commanding instructor air pulling his shoulders back and keeping his spine straight. His ever ready frown was on his face but this time I felt like it was directed at me and I burned thinking about his poor woman sent away to a hotel for me. Why would he do that? Why was he so secretive?

"I suppose you are quite afraid of spiders?" he asked coolly and I shivered at mention of the spider and at his penetrating liquid voice. For the first time its smooth cadences annoyed me because it made me want to go kneel at his feet and have him talk until I passed out from exhaustion. But I was hurt and angry he didn't trust me and I childishly wanted to hurt him too.

"I want to see your face," the way he flinched and turned away made me want to snatch back my words but why should I? He said he was ugly but I found the uncovered side of his face very appealing and how could he be ugly with a voice like his and a tall lean elegant body such as his. But seeing the immediate tension in him I felt bad for being so petty and tried to make my demand seem less horrible. "You know everything about me, I've told you everything, and I don't know anything about you. Not even what you look like."

He stood and moved away his back to me, shoulders rolled forward making his waistcoat cling to his back as he leaned on the piano as if for support. I could not take my request back now and I didn't want to. I wanted to see his face and show him that it didn't matter. He was my friend and teacher and no facial deformity would change that. He could trust me.

"I would call you my friend but I may not even recognize you if I passed you on the street. Please show me your face." Even if he was ugly, it did not matter to me.

He spoke with his back to me, his hand on his face over the mask. "Eventually everyone wants to see the boy with the devil's face." His voice was suddenly scary and fear tingled up my spine. I'd never heard it so emotionless before. Usually it was harsh or stern, cold or sarcastic but now, it was low and even with no fleck of emotion. It was an empty intimidating voice and hearing it come from Erik sent a thrill of nerves through my belly. I looked down at the handkerchief in my hand and twirled it between my fingers nervously. Did he say devil?

My eye was caught by the stylish embroidery on the linen and I folded it out and almost swallowed my tongue. The initials embroidered in exquisite detail were C.D. I looked up at Erik's bowed back shocked. He got these for me? The bath things? The clothing? Were those his preparations? No, that would have taken weeks to prepare, not two days. My confusion was interrupted by his steely voice.

"I have first hand experience that sticks and stones do actually break your bones and words…" his voice was bleak, "Words eventually will eat your soul." He was still poetic in his sad way but his intimidating voice was making me scared. I panicked.

"Erik, I'm sorry," I hurried to undo my request, frightened by the tension in him, "I don't want to see anymore."

"Too late!" he exploded and spun around, throwing the mask down. "Ask for anything you like and ye shall receive!" He gestured wildly and I backed up a few steps startled. "Go ahead and throw your stones, poke me with sticks, laugh and point and then thank your God that your face is normal!" I'd never heard him so angry and as he began to shake I realized in seeking his trust I had foolishly broken it. He really thought he was too ugly to live a life above ground with other people around him?

"Please Erik," I reached out my hand, his face not even registering with me. I was only concerned that I'd just hurt him very badly.

"I don't need your pity!" he snarled and his voice so often the brightest part of my day was like a physical assault. Tears filled my eyes involuntarily. "Monsters," he spat the word, "are undeserving of pity."

"You're not a monster." I took a tentative step towards him and he looked straight at me, his eyes searing with anger, affording me my first good look at his face.

He only had half a face. The hidden side was torn away, red and purple and sunken in to the point that I thought his teeth must be right next to that skin. You couldn't even call it a cheek. There was no cheek, only mottled bruise colored skin, mangled but stretched so tightly that his cheekbone jutted out at a sharp angle. Some of his hair was even swept into the mess of his non-cheek.

It was terrible but I wasn't frightened by it. I was frightened by the pure rage that boiled in his eyes. Those beautiful captivating soft grey eyes, seethed and flashed. He was the epitome of danger. He'd mentioned the devil and it was all I could think of looking at him like this. The cool solemn man in a mask had vanished to be replaced by a violent looking monster.

"No," I said aloud to my own thoughts. "You are not a monster," I said again, speaking aloud what I wanted to be true.

He began to walk towards me with the same fluid step he always had except this time it was as if he stalked me. His body rolled toward me fists clenching and I stepped back again, reaching for the wall behind me. I immediately was ashamed as his expression hardened into a fearsome scowl. He knew I was scared but it wasn't his face that scared me. It was this different person standing before me. I wanted to tell him so but my tongue was frozen.

"If I'm not a monster why cower away from me?" he spoke when he stopped directly in front of me forcing me to press back against the wall if I didn't want him to touch me. Again I was ashamed that I moved away from him, but I felt like I didn't know this Erik at all. Who was this dangerous angry man? Even his voice was different, low and thick with menace. I tried to think but I was instinctively frightened by the unspoken threat in his demeanor. My lips trembled as I looked at him. His own lips, I noticed were malformed on the top left side, it stretched up and into his nonexistent cheek, as if pulled in by unseen strings. His bottom lip was perfectly rounded over his nice chin and the straight line of his jaw that I had memorized during many a lesson. My eyes travelled up the handsome side of his angry face to his eyes.

I stared at his now slate grey eyes framed by his scowling dark brow and barely recognized him. I saw so many emotions roiling through his eyes. Such bitterness and such sorrow; there was plenty of untamed anger but so much sadness that it hurt me to see it. How could anyone be so sad? Two tears trailed down my face and I watched Erik blink and follow the tears down to where they collected by my mouth. I couldn't even raise my hand holding the handkerchief to wipe them away because he stared hard at those tears. I held my breath not wanting to move and then he turned quickly striding away from me, across the room as far as he could go. He spread his hands over the shelf mounted into the stone wall like he was going to rip it from its place. His head dropped down between his shoulders and I saw his back rise and fall laboriously, his body shaking like he was panting. I took two steps away from the wall and stopped.

Was I running for the door or moving to console him? Was he upset? Was he ill? Was he crazy? My heart was in my throat pounding furiously. I was scared and yet I couldn't move to run away. I watched his back for a moment, thinking that he reminded me of the image of Christ spread out upon the cross; his long arms spanned almost the entire wood shelf, his head dropped down as if exhausted. It was the most emotion I'd ever seen from him and if this is what he was like when he rode his emotions I don't think I'd ever complain about the lack.

Who had made him hate his face so much? Where did all that anger come from? Why was he so sad?

His fingers looked capable of tearing pieces of the wood away, like he was fighting with himself and I couldn't bear the thought that I'd done this by asking to see his face. He always gave me everything I asked for and I was just a stupid careless child.

Determined I walked towards him. I was not scared of him or his face. He would not hurt me regardless of what I felt he may be capable of. I slowed as I neared him; the pain riddled tension that etched across his shoulders and down his arms made me feel like the worst person in the world. He takes care of me for months and I repay him like this.

I laid an uncertain hand on his back wanting to set things right and Erik flinched. I pulled away terrified, remembering he didn't like to be touched and tears stung my eyes. I didn't know how else to console him. I was terrible with words. Not like him. I could never find the right flow of words to correct what I'd done to him. I threw caution to the wind, along with my manners and propriety and wrapped my arms around his torso willing the Erik I knew to come back. I fisted my hands in his vest and pressed my cheek to his back holding him fiercely. It was like hugging wood he was so tense and unmoving but I wouldn't let go until he forgave me. I rubbed my cheek over his spine and whispered, "Come back to me Erik."

---

Erik

---

The blackness in my mind cleared to reveal her frightened features and I wanted to die. I showed her my face, just like she asked, and she was so scared by the grotesque sight that she could only cry when faced with it. I'd turned away from her, once more reassured I was a monster. But now her dainty hands were tangled in my clothing and all I could think of was having her naked in my bed.

I'd always known she was beautiful, angelic even, but I'd never thought of her physically until right now. I could feel her breasts on my back, her warm breath through my clothes, her small hands fisted in my garments. She went from a lonely child to a woman in my mind, and I had never had a woman touch me before. She wasn't just touching me. Her lithe warm body held me so tight, like she never wanted to let go, like she was afraid to let go. Images of her naked beneath me played through my mind and I was filled with horror at the train of my thoughts. I had to get away from her quickly but she was holding me so tight and her body against mine, her breath on my back….Holy Hell it felt good!

She whispered something against my spine that I couldn't hear over my angered pulse. The sensation rippled through me from head to toe and I went hot with need. I needed to make her let go, my head was screaming to get away, so I turned in her arms and caught her hard by the shoulders, to put her away from me, to save her from me. Her face lifted, her large golden eyes moist with the tears my face had caused.

"Please forgive me, Erik," she whispered clutching at my clothing, "I'll do anything."

It was all the invitation I needed. I buried one hand in her hair and brought my mouth down to hers. Her lips were soft and I pressed my desperate kiss hard on her mouth. Her hands fluttered, grasping at me, pushing on me, I couldn't tell. I cupped her face in both hands and kissed her harder, sliding my tongue into her unresisting mouth. Her knees wobbled and I should have stopped but her mouth tasted so sweet that I wrapped my arms around her body so I could hold her in place just a few seconds longer. Her body shuddered against me and I broke the kiss abruptly.

What in the god damn bloody hell did I just do? Surprise was painted across her face, her lips rosy and parted by her startled breath. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving, utterly shocked as I backed away from her and bumped into the shelf behind me. Her chest was rising and falling quickly and she was glowing pink and I was incredibly aroused. I turned away from her before her gaze dropped from my mutilated face and leaned against the shelf again to regain my sanity. All I could think, was I have crossed the line. I bring her here to keep her safe and then I molest her myself? She would never trust me now; she would be just as disgusted with me as she had been by all those horny boys at the Masquerade. My knees began to shake as I thought of her leaving me and never wanting to see me again. I had to fix this. Could I fix this?

"Please allow me to apologize for my behavior. I understand it may be difficult but I ask anyway, that you try to forgive me and then forget this ever happened," I rambled harshly, embarrassed that I had no control, no ability to stop myself from tasting her mouth.

"I…I," she started, and I held out one hand covering my face with the other. I could hear the trembling fear in her voice, my face was so terrible and I was no gentleman.

"I swear it will never happen again. You have my word," I could hear the command in my voice trying to cover the embarrassment. Whether she would take my word now after seeing this side of me remained to be seen. "I would be very much obliged if you would retire for the rest of the evening." I needed to be alone right now. I needed to unravel into a million pieces.

There was silence for a full minute and then her skirts started to move quickly. She closed her door and as soon as I heard that sound my knees buckled. I fell to the floor in a heap of warring emotions, shaking sleeplessness and untamed desires. She would hate me now. Now that she had seen my face and my horrid behavior. My terrible face…

I crawled to the mask and replaced it quickly, palming my hand over it to press it into my face hard. It would take care of me, hide me and shelter me from being hurt.

---

Christine

---

I leaned against the door for some time. I was sort of dazed and warm, very warm. My lips tingled where his roughened malformed lip had rubbed and I could still taste him on my mouth. It was a pleasant taste and I licked my lips, as I gazed at this beautiful bedroom, wondering why Erik would kiss me if he had a woman. Maybe he didn't. My brain felt soft and I smiled thinking of my first kiss from a man. It had practically stopped my heart when he kissed me. The magic of his golden tongue could definitely be felt. Why would he kiss me? the question swirled in my mind and I pushed away from the door finally remembering that he very calmly and Erik-like asked me to forget it ever happened. I never would, but I should try not to dwell on it.

I shivered thinking of his explosion, his voice, so changed and his eyes so frantic and his demeanor so intimidating. When his mask was on he was a perfect gentleman, almost rude in his very proper manners. Without the mask he was wild and untamed, his eyes a frenzied storm of emotion. I thought of his hands in my hair, holding me hard as if to cherish me thoroughly...very thoroughly. I reddened that I was thinking of his mouth on mine again. I should have pushed him away, I should be appalled by his conduct. If it had been any other man I would have pushed him away and slapped him for his unwanted advances. I was not that kind of girl. At least, I tried to convince myself that I was still a good girl but I wasn't so sure anymore. Now that he'd kissed me once, I didn't know if I was strong enough to stop him if he ever tried again. He seemed so much more powerful than me that submission was my only course of action. Besides, how could I slap Erik? I couldn't. I told him I'd do anything for his forgiveness and though I didn't understand how kissing me had helped, it had. He'd come back to himself, the Erik that I knew, and ordered me to leave him in his familiar stern tone.

I was happy to oblige him. First of all, his outburst of anger and his wild behavior, so different from the Erik I knew, had frightened me and secondly I had enjoyed his lips on mine far too much. When he'd said it would never happen again I'd been disappointed that I would never feel that rush through my body again. I wanted to hide from him and pretend that I didn't just let him kiss me like that. Pretend that I didn't enjoy it.

I looked around the room again and sighed. I still didn't know why he had a woman's room so perfectly outfitted in his home. I knew he'd made the handkerchiefs for me but why would he bring me down here to his home if he already had a companion? Why would he kiss me if he already had a companion? Was his woman dead and he was now alone? If he was alone, why kiss me only to say forget it? I was horribly muddled and hung my jacket in the full closet, where it looked incredibly shabby next to the extravagant clothing. I could just imagine a striking woman at his side in these clothes. I closed the door feeling self-conscious. I was such a child.

I readied for bed slowly, marvelling at the large mirror over the sink in the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and was ashamed. I'd never acted so terribly to anyone in my life and couldn't understand why I'd been so rude to Erik. I would do as he asked and forgive him for stealing a kiss. Meg had said men expected play from dancers and maybe that was all it was. Maybe with his woman dead he was urgent for female companionship. I blushed and looked away from my reflection because I knew I would let him kiss me again if he wanted to. But he didn't, I reminded myself. 'It will never happen again.' his smooth controlled words had promised me and I suddenly thought of Papa. He would be so disappointed in my behavior; treating Erik like that when he's been nothing but kind to me and then allowing myself to be kissed in that manner. I was a terribly naughty girl.

I slid into bed in only my chemise and prayed feverishly for forgiveness from my sins, both from the heavenly father, from my own father and from my new guardian. Please let Erik forgive me.


	10. Conversation

I spent the rest of the night hiding in my laboratory. I had a few experiments to check on and there was nothing like science to make you forget the world around you. Music worked equally well but I couldn't play while Christine was here sleeping. I emerged from my haven of science some time in the early morning, refreshed and once more stable. I ran myself a bath and let my mind wander as I indulged.

I had been completely out of control last night. When she demanded to see my face the thoughts of my mother were so close to the surface and I was so overly tired that I'd completely snapped. I groaned and submerged my head thinking of everything that had occurred. It was incredibly easy to read the emotions on her face as I'd been taught to do by Persia's most powerful of men. She'd been terrified of my face, but desperate for me to forgive her and then the utter disbelief when I'd kissed her. Perhaps I did it wrong? It had felt extremely good for about two seconds and then I'd felt like a letch. I was like a child snatching up the piece of candy the second it was offered. 'Please forgive me' she had pleaded 'I'll do anything'. I didn't fully understand why she was apologizing to me but I'd just seized the opportunity to kiss her like I was one of those uncontrollable skirt hounds panting after her…

I exploded from under the water and the rivulets ran down my face. I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of something touching my face and then fastidiously began scrubbing every inch of my skin. What would happen today? Would she want to leave after witnessing my depraved behavior? Would it be worse if she stayed? Would she be able to forgive me for attacking her in that manner? Would I be able to forgive myself and act normally around her? As normal as I am...

I perused my closet for an outfit. I was a terrible clothes hound for a man but I just loved to wrap myself in perfectly tailored luxurious materials. Nothing else would ever wrap itself around this body, might as well enjoy the little pleasures that were left to me. I chose a dark grey pair of slacks and my usual white dress shirt, tying my deep green ascot securely around my neck. I chose a lighter grey waistcoat but only laid it on the bed. For now I threw on my burgundy smoking jacket and went to light the fire and make some tea.

Her bedroom door was still closed and I wondered again if she would stay or go. She may decide to take her chances with Raoul seeing as I already molested her. I grimaced at the tea preparations with distaste. Would I never stop thinking of it? I hoped she could forgive me and we could still be friends. I didn't want to imagine her emerging from her room with her bag in hand demanding I take her back upstairs. I wanted to remain friends and remain her teacher to enjoy her radiant voice, shining smiles and twinkling laughter. But friends did not steal kisses like that. Not just a small kiss either, I just had to taste the inside of her mouth.

"Bah!" I threw down the metal tea ball and it splattered satisfyingly on the counter. I turned and stared at her door as I sipped the scalding hot tea. If she decided to forgive me and stay I would be the perfect gentleman. I would not touch her at all. I would speak to her kindly and gently. I would get her anything she needed.

I turned from her door to go to the piano. When the hours spent in lessons with Christine had begun to accumulate, the piano began to draw me with increasing vigor. I wanted to create beautiful music for her to sing. Music worthy of an angel. But many of my attempts had failed. It never sounded sweet enough or soft enough. There was always a hard edge to my music and I suppose it was because I only had hard edges to work with. I pulled out one of the half finished songs and flexed my fingers over the keys before I checked the time. It was after nine. I hoped it was socially acceptable to be woken at this time, if she wasn't already up wanting to run screaming from my cave.

I'd only been playing for a few minutes when her door opened. I was afraid to stop lest she stand there in hat and jacket, bag in hand, but after delaying for a minute or so I stopped and turned on the bench.

She was hesitant in the doorway, her long hair braided loosely down the side of her neck. She had just a dress and shoes on so it seemed she was still staying with me.

How desperate she must be to stay here with me…

"Good morning, Christine," I loved to roll her name off my tongue.

"Good morning, Erik," she replied softly as her hands rose to grasp the tail of her hair.

"Did you warm your throat this morning?" I immediately fell into my harsh instructor tone. I was comfortable in that role but I scolded myself in my head. Try to be nice, Erik. Make up for last night.

"Yes," her voice shrank a little as her eyes slid from my masked face to roam down my seated frame. Her slow perusal made me feel very odd and I sat up even straighter as her eyes came back to my face.

"Please be comfortable in my home, anything you require don't hesitate to ask," I turned back to the piano knowing that I hadn't been nice at all. Maybe you should ask her how she slept. Was the bed comfortable? Did she have enough blankets? There was no fireplace in the spare room and I had purchased the thickest blankets I could to keep her warm. I also noticed that she was wearing one of her tired dresses and wondered why she didn't pick something pretty from the closet. Didn't all girls like pretty clothing?

I stopped writing and realized Christine had moved closer as if to see what I was doing. I glanced over my shoulder at her.

"Did you require something?" I prompted and then cursed myself. I was an ingrained asshole.

"No," she shook her head for emphasis her hands still tightly clamped around her hair as if it could protect her. She came forward some more and I dropped my hands to my lap sort of surprised that she wasn't more frightened of me, especially since I was terrible at being nice.

"Are you busy?" she stopped at my blank expression, "Should I leave you be?"

"No no," I assured her, if she was willing to be nice to me I could at least pay her the same respect. "You do not have to leave me. I'm just writing some music."

She smiled with interest and came closer still until she was standing beside the piano bench. "You write music?"

"Yes," I turned back and jotted a few notes down as if to illustrate that I could indeed write music. "Would you like to hear what I've written?"

"Yes please," she smiled wider and I dove into the music so I wouldn't have to look at her childlike joy. It seemed she would forgive me my trespasses. I played what I'd written so far and stopped abruptly where the music notes ended.

"Oh," she exclaimed prettily, "How will it end?" her voice was breathlessly excited and I glanced at her again to find her bright eyed and waiting for the end of my song like it was a story that wasn't complete.

"I have not decided," I played a few chords but stopped, not wanting to decide with her watching over my shoulder.

"Papa wrote music," she didn't sound as sad as she usually did at mention of 'Papa'.

"Did he?" I was getting better at this casual conversation thing.

"Oh yes, they made the best bedtime stories," she looked at the music sheet in front of me a little dreamily and I felt like she was staring at my gloved hands. I filed the sheet of music into its pile to be put away later and stood. I suppose it was time to entertain my guest.

"Do you like to read?" I queried.

"Very much," she nodded.

"I have a small library of books," I gestured towards the bookshelves that spanned one entire corner in my little cave, and she followed me quietly to see my books. Even though I'd always known she was shy, it was more pronounced this morning but she was still quietly eager, nodding her head or shaking it vigorously if I asked her a direct question. Within ten minutes I was sure that she had forgiven me completely and was willing to forget what happened last night. Some tension left me as she talked quietly about her father telling her stories.

"He was a marvelous story teller and would act out Shakespeare for me sometimes," her hand trailed absently over my complete Shakespeare collection.

"Please feel free to borrow anything you like," I stood back wondering if I should leave her side. What was proper? Why couldn't someone have written a book about how to act around a young lady?

"Thank you," she murmured as her eyes travelled over the many spines, I could almost see her imagination running rampant within the pages. "I will thank you."

We fell silent and I didn't feel it was appropriate for me to just leave her side so soon in her visit to my dungeon. I should prove to her and myself that I could be a gentleman, so I stood silent and still with my arms clasped behind my back as she walked slowly, reading the spines of my many books. I didn't have them in any particular order and I thought about apologizing for that when she exclaimed.

"Oh," her little exhalation was surprised and I leaned forward slightly.

"Something catch your interest?" I asked eager to fill the silence.

Her hands curled around her hair again and her eyes never left the spine of one book. I tried to glance and see which one but couldn't tell, so I looked back at her profile which was quite pleasing to look at, as usual, and waited for her answer.

"I was reading a book to Papa, because his eyesight was getting poor. I would read to him every night…we never finished 'The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe'." I now saw the book she was staring at but wasn't sure what the appropriate thing to say would be. I wanted to tell her to finish it but would that be rude with her precious Papa so recently deceased?

"I could tell you the ending," I offered remembering her eagerness to here the end of my song.

"Oh no," she laughed suddenly and looked over at me, her face brightening in a most becoming manner as her eyes sparkled, "That's cheating, Erik!" she turned back to the book biting her lip adorably and I was fully enchanted. She reached out for the book and tipped it off the shelf into her hands. "May I borrow this one?"

"Of course," I replied with a little difficulty.

"I'll read it out loud so Papa can listen too," she clutched the book to her chest and looked about twelve years old. As endearing and enchanting as her innocence was, it made me feel even more lecherous about last night. The thought of it brought heat to my face and I was glad she had turned her attention to the book. Even though I'd asked her to forget last night, I was surprised that she could and would. How could a sweet girl like Christine forget an assault of that manner? Unless…

She was okay with what happened? She did not slap me after the stolen kiss, which I richly deserved. She came after me, post-mask explosion and hugged me to her like she would hold me together. The intoxicating feel of her body against mine… Could I maybe feel that again?

Christine looked up from the book and smiled shyly, her eyes lit with her inner glow and I was mesmerized.

Enchanting fairy, come play with my heart…

"Would you read to me?" I heard my voice ask with an almost childlike wonder. No one had ever read to me before and the thought of Christine's girlish voice doing just that made the youthful plea rise up from within me.

"Right now?" she laughed a little not taking me seriously.

"Do you have time or are you terribly busy?" I asked completely seriously even though I was trying to make a joke. She laughed and put the back of her hand to her forehead.

"Terribly busy," she drawled and then covered her mouth to giggle. I watched her laugh wondering what it would be like to laugh with her and Christine sobered, drawing her brows down to consider me. "You want me to read aloud to you?"

"I asked if you would," I got nervous at my childish request and fell directly into teacher mode, "Because it is good to practice your pronunciation. Proper pronunciation is key. How can you sing beautifully if people can not understand you?" I was such a bastard, a manipulative ass who suddenly desired this young woman's attention more than anything.

"You must have spent years reading aloud," she said with a quiet laugh and I cocked a brow at her quizzically for an explanation, "Your voice is utterly amazing."

---

Christine

---

"Your voice is utterly amazing." The one singular thought that roamed every time he spoke to me. I could listen to his voice all day, all night, forever.

He went still is the only way to explain the stone like statue that stood before me. He lost that little bit of relaxation that he'd only just revealed to me. He'd been almost playful, in his stoic way, making a joke with me and I'd managed to ruin it somehow. I don't think he even blinked for the minute that we stood there in the oppressive silence. His eyes were locked on mine as if he was trying to see into my soul again and I wanted to look away but found that I couldn't. His eyes were so spectacular, the long dark lashes framing the grey currents of his dominant personality, the left eye darkly shadowed by the mask. I felt weak in his presence and wanted to break the spell he was casting on me.

"Where shall we sit?" I asked as loudly as I could which didn't seem to be very loud, as I raised the book into the crook of my arm. He swept his arm towards the couch.

"We can sit there."

I sat nervously at one end of the couch and opened the book. Erik sat at the other end and curled his gloved hands over his knees. His white clad fingers looked impossibly long and thin against the dark of his dress pants and I remembered how wonderful they'd looked as he played for me just a moment ago. I peeled my eyes from his hands and started flipping to where Papa and I left off.

"Have you read this book?" I asked thoughtfully, not wanting to ruin the experience for him and then remembered he'd offered to tell me the end. "Never mind, I…I," forgot what you said two seconds ago? I felt the blush paint my cheeks. He stayed silent and imperious beside me and eventually I took a deep breath and started.

At first I was shy, not speaking very loudly at all. I always seemed to act so juvenile around him. He made me nervous though, his emotionless expression so exact it was like another mask on his face. I'd been trying to not think of his face under the white mask, the swirling darkness in his eyes; trying not to think of his long gloved fingers hard against my skull, his tongue in my mouth…

I faltered the next sentence and stopped to control my thoughts. Concentrate on the story. I glanced quickly at Erik and found his eyes closed, his brow drawn down slightly. It looked like he was concentrating and listening carefully.

I cleared my throat to cover the fumble, "Pardon me," I said softly and then continued with more seriousness. Erik was one hundred percent devoted to the further education of my singing talents and I wasn't giving him enough. I should be using every opportunity to impress him. I have been listening and learning. I swear. Not just staring vapidly…

When I finished the chapter he rose quickly as if he had known the chapter was ending.

"That is enough for now. We can continue tonight if you like, or save it for a daily exercise?" his one uncovered eyebrow rose, which was the one expression he allowed himself, to ask a question or express confusion.

"Yes," I said stupidly, instead of giving him an answer. I clutched the book to my chest again as if it could shield me. "Whatever you like…" he nodded slightly and moved to the fire. I watched him tend to it, his hands just as graceful as always. They flowed as if playing with the air as they completed their task. My eyes couldn't stop watching as he tended to such a menial thing as fire. When he stood I realized that I'd been sitting there staring at him and I dropped my eyes to my lap self-consciously.

"Excuse me a moment, Christine," he bowed slightly and strode to his bedroom. My ears buzzed with my name on his lips and I shuddered. Being around him all the time was so intense. I'd meant to ask him directly about the room and its missing occupant but seeing him at the piano had reminded me of my rudeness last night, and then he'd distracted my thoughts with his music, his fingers flying over the keys like nothing I'd ever seen, taking my breath away with a song unlike any I've ever heard and then his wonderful wall of books... I stood with a shaky breath. I will just ask him when he comes back out.

I wondered how good my reading was. Papa never complained but reading to Erik was different. As my teacher, I'm sure he would have critiques but I wondered what my Phantom guardian and my friend thought of my reading. I screwed my face as I replaced the book on its shelf. Now I was thinking of him as seperate entities? Well, Meg did seem to have multiple Megs residing in her, suppose Erik just had multiples of himself? I shook my head at the odd thoughts and thought instead about how strange it was to see someone play piano with gloves on. Even though it probably made it difficult, it didn't seem to hold him back at all, but it made me conclude there was something unsightly about his hands as well. If he was taught to wear that mask then he would automatically think he needed to cover anything unpleasant about himself. My heart ached wondering who had twisted Erik's view of himself so badly. The mask on his face hardly mattered to me and now that I'd seen the face underneath it I wished he would just leave it off but it mattered to him, a lot, and I decided I would never mention the mask or his face again.

I found myself thinking of his bare face though as I trailed my fingers over the old spines. The angry, bruise colored skin, puckered but stretched thin, a shallow indent where there should have been a fleshy cheek. Very ugly, as he described it but to me, it was interesting. Was it result of injury or was he born that way? What did it feel like? Why cover it up? Who told him to cover it up? How did the mask stay on his face? How was I to bring up the discussion of the bedroom? Did he forgive me for my attitude last night? Did he enjoy my company at all or was I only endured because he felt sorry for me? I glanced behind me at his closed door. He never smiled or laughed, but then I remembered all the sadness I'd seen in him last night and thought of how sad I'd been when Papa died and how impossible laughter seemed at the time. My throat tightened and I wondered what would make Erik that sad all the time. Would he ever trust me enough to tell me? After the way I behaved last night I doubted it. Now more than ever I probably seemed like nothing but a tiresome burden.

His door opened and I jumped. He'd removed his burgundy sweater and changed into a cinched vest that flattered his lean physique. The dark green tie and grey clothing, with his black hair and white mask all looked so well put together that I didn't think I'd ever meet another man who dressed himself as well. My hands locked automatically around my braid as he walked towards me and I realized the way he moved wasn't walking. He strolled forward effortlessly, floating on air, flowing with musicality and masculinity. My mouth was open to speak but I stood daftly as he approached. Erik stopped a few feet away and just looked back at me, like he didn't know what to say either, but that was absurd. Erik always knew how to conduct himself and I knew nothing of proper etiquette. So I continued to stare at him like a timid schoolgirl until he finally got tired of waiting for me to speak.

"Would you care for some tea?" he asked perfectly and politely.

"Yes thank you," I breathed out and he nodded and turned to the kitchen. I hadn't really noticed the kitchen because it was tucked neatly in an odd opening sort of around the corner from my bedroom but there it was; a table and two chairs, a brick oven and wash basin and a cold box with cupboards covering the upper walls. The sight of those two chairs made my eyes widen. A person who lived alone would not have two chairs.

I followed him into the kitchen like a lost puppy, trailing after him self-consciously, as my mind flung question after question at him silently. I wanted to just blurt out everything but felt too insecure to ask. Instead my eyes fastened on him as he prepared the water. He was very slim and tall, and his clothing always fit him impeccably. I had no doubt that they'd been made to his specifications. My eyes wandered down his back in the fitted vest to his long legs, every inch covered by expensive trousers and back up to where light and dark grey met. I blushed and looked away ashamed that I'd let my eyes linger on his backside.

I said a quick prayer for my wayward eyes and then darted them around the main living area trying to see if I'd missed another partially concealed room.

---

Erik

---

I could feel her watching me. Always watching now that she knew I could snap. I pressed my lips together as I scowled at the tea leaves. She was quite timid the more time we spent together and I knew it was because I'd kissed her. She was trying to forgive me but how could a sweet innocent girl forget such an attack? I wanted to break something but tried to calm myself as I took out the china.

Listening to her speak for an extended period had been delightful, her sweet clear voice weaving the words through my mind. She did not need any help with her diction but I might selfishly suggest she needs to practice just to sit and listen again. I turned to find Christine on the other side of the table. She was looking at the wall where my hidden door to the laboratory resided but she turned to me and smiled a little, as if eager for my attention. I glanced quickly towards my hidden door wondering why she would be looking there so intently and saw that I hadn't quite closed the stone door. It was cracked just enough to see the break in the stone.

Her hand rose to point and her mouth opened to speak but I cut her off rudely, "Your reading skills are quite good but you still require some practice." I quickly crossed the small space to push the door the rest of the way shut, knowing she would never find the seam in the wall, or the mechanism to open it. Why was I so secretive of my lab? There wasn't anything grand in there. Maybe that was the problem. It was just a mess of my ideas and experiments, childish things to pass the time.

"After tea, we can practice your singing," I heard the command in my tone and pressed my lips together as I arranged the cups and saucers. Is it possible for you to be nice for two whole minutes? "If you feel so inclined," I added trying to soften my tone. I did want her to like me and not be frightened.

"I would love to sing," she sounded happy and I glanced quickly over my shoulder to see the smile I'd heard in her voice. It was like a breath of innocence on her face. I turned away and closed my eyes.

You are a twit! You want to spirit her away and bathe in her light, scared that someone will ruin her innocence, and now that you have her here, to keep her safe, and you act like an ass! Not only that, but you besmirch her innocence by kissing her!

I heard the movement of her skirt and opened my eyes quickly.

"Do you need help, Erik? I feel sort of useless," she stood beside me propping her intertwined hands on the counter. Be a gentleman! How many chances does one fool get?

"You are my guest here. You do not need to help." There, nice and civilized.

"But I like to help," she said eagerly and sweetly, so sweetly that I could practically roll it on my tongue. This is what I'd wanted, to have her around me, enjoying all her natural beauty and effervescent attitude, without having to worry about her safety all the time. Why was I not enjoying it?

She turned towards me, lacing her fingers around her braid, "I could cook for you?"

Nice. Nice. Nice.

"I am sure that you could but I do not wish for my guest to earn her keep," not wanting to keep arguing about this I changed the subject. "Is your room satisfactory?" I really had no clue what to purchase and had mimicked what the girls had in their rooms in the dormitory, except of better quality. The bathroom addition had been a must seeing as she couldn't very well use mine, I borrowed the marble from the house I was working on. I could just replace it later. The job of supplying water to it had been an interesting one but manageable. For her clothing, I had mostly just taken my tailor's word for what a lady would like, but perhaps she did not like anything because she came out in her poor excuse for a dress.

"It is a very lovely room," her voice halted strangely but I was too busy pouring the water into the teapot to check her face. "I like the rug with the strange pattern on it."

"That one is from Persia. They make wonderfully intricate carpets." I lapsed into silence feeling a little awkward. She opened her mouth a few times to say something but nothing came out and I allowed her a few moments as I brought the cups, saucers, spoons, sugar and tea to the table. Just as I was slicing my lemon she found her voice.

"Whose clothing is in the closet?" she was timid and shy, like she felt she was being rude but just had to know. I was shocked into dumbness. She didn't know it was for her? Did she think I had a wife? A daughter? A woman? Did she think they were mine? I was so bewildered that I didn't answer her fast enough and she blundered on as she often did.

"I'm so sorry for prying, Erik. Please forgive me. I know better then to let my tongue flap with silly questions. It doesn't matter whose room it is or was or…" she covered her mouth with one hand as if it was the only way to stop the flow of words.

The tea was ready so I ignored her for the moment to get my thoughts in order. My heart was beating hard in my chest because if I told her the clothes and room were for only her, she would be frightened. Why would I buy her all those things if not to woo her? What did I truly want from her? Hadn't I taken enough already?

I pulled out one of my brand new kitchen chairs for her and gestured to indicate sitting. Christine came over with pink cheeks and a bowed head. I sat opposite her and poured us both a cup of tea. I squeezed the lemon into mine and took a small sip for fortification.

"The room is yours alone, along with everything in it." I was embarrassed I decorated my empty room for her. It had seemed cheap to leave the closet and dresser bare when she had no clothing and no one to buy any for her. So you bought her a fortune in expensive clothing too?

Her hands were cupped around the tea cup and she frowned down at the tea. Frown was too strong a word though because I don't think she had a single bone in her body capable of the anger required to frown properly. She looked confused, perplexed and then looked up. Her strange shining eyes pinned me in their gaze as she chewed on my words.

"Did you buy all those clothes for me?" her voice almost squeaked at the end. I could feel the flush of heat in my neck and was one hundred times more embarrassed for being embarrassed and heat rose steadily up into my face. My cheek beneath the mask throbbed dully and I fought the urge to press my hand over it to make sure the mask was still there. I just felt so exposed.

"Yes," my voice dominated the silence around us but Christine didn't seem to notice my bad behavior.

"I never even thanked you properly for the cloak and now you've bought me more clothing than I've ever owned in my entire life!" she was flabbergasted and I thought maybe she hadn't noticed my extreme embarrassment, as she continued to rant. "Thank you isn't even enough anymore! I don't even know what to say. How can I accept it all? I can't accept it all! I have nothing to give you in return!" she sounded distraught and I realized she was upset she had nothing to give to me? A present? Do I get a present?

"Please accept them, Christine. You have already given me your voice and your friendship, I want for nothing more." I really didn't want her to think any nefarious thoughts about my intentions, especially since I'd overstepped our strange relationship last night.

She stared down into her tea as if it could tell her what to do and then she looked up at me with a tiny smile. Not for the first time I wondered if she actually saw me when she looked at me. Otherwise how could she smile like that, all sweetness and tenderness, when she could clearly see the mask and now knew what lay beneath it.

"Thank you, Erik. You are overly generous with your gifts to me."

"Money is of no importance," I waved my hand, glad that this topic was done and glad she wasn't suspicious of me or my motives. But then, Christine was suspicious of nothing and that is precisely why and how she ended up in my care. We sat silently drinking our tea for a few minutes and Christine's eyes sort of glazed like she was off in another world, thinking pretty thoughts.

"I still can't believe it's all for me," she said quietly after some thoughtful time. "How did you know my sizes?"

"I have a trained eye."

"You often eye-size women's clothing?" her question was colored with laughter and I felt the urge to join in her amusement bubble up within me. It was amusing but panic squashed the emotion back down.

"My eye is trained from architecture and masonry." I tried to keep my voice even but ended up sort of scowling. "I often measure distances without aid."

"Masonry?" she repeated and then pushed her empty cup aside and propped her chin on a closed fist. "What do you build?"

Her interest in me made my scowl fade to blankness as I pondered how to answer her. Surely I could tell her about my business and the houses I built. There would be no harm in that. So I did. We sat for almost an hour as I explained how I'd built my very first house alone, only at night, in a quaint corner of Paris. I fully assumed I could live above ground but the neighbors got curious of the new home being mysteriously erected in their neighborhood and I realized it was foolish of me to think I could co-exist with others without their curiosity getting the better of them. I never actually met any of them, being careful to stay far from their sight but the way they would gather sometimes outside the house, trading stories about who I might be began to wear on my nerves. They would never leave me alone, which is all I'd ever wanted out of life, all I ever thought I deserved.

At its completion, because I could never leave it unfinished, I abandoned the house and searched for somewhere less conspicuous and stumbled upon the half built Opera Garnier rising from the dirt. The wonderful idea to live below this opulent house of music sprang into my mind and as the stonemasons toiled above to complete their work, I secretly built my home beyond the lake below. I, of course, have added many necessary changes to the opera, not only in the years it took them to complete it while I already lived below but also in the last few years when our popularity has grown due to my genius interjections and I needed better ways of getting to places, but I did not go into all that with Christine.

I told her of the interest my abandoned house received and how another plan hatched like an egg in my mind. My fortune was dwindling rapidly and I needed to find some form of income rather quickly. I realized I could build for a profit instead of just for my own pleasure as long as I was willing to speak to a few people and so the business began. Finding a trust worthy head mason to run the daytime operations had been the most tedious of the start-up jobs. Usually my mask caused problems but Bernard, desperate Bernard, had been perfect for the job. He was an accomplished stonemason with a pretty little wife, pregnant with their fourth child, all of them under five years old. He had been half mindless in his interview, the despair easy to read in his eyes. He was so blinded by his need of money to support his growing family that I don't think he even noticed the mask until perhaps our third encounter. But he was good at his job and interpreted my drawings to the letter and so I began to take work. I had a crew that worked in the day and I completed the finishing work at night. Bernard would contact me about a job and I would decide to take it or not. All in all, a sound set up seeing as I never had to meet with a client and the mystery of 'Erik' brought no limit of new work to my door.

The clock struck twelve and Christine jumped in her seat, her eyes focusing sharply as if she'd been listening in a daze. I realized I had plenty of said work to complete and rose from my seat. But I had promised her a lesson and could not renege on that.

"Shall we proceed to the piano?" I gestured past her and her eyes flicked to my hand briefly before she nodded and proceeded as I'd directed.


	11. Revealed

After tea, we had a lesson unlike any before. Singing with the piano was marvelous. I hadn't sung with a piano since Papa and I left Sweden almost half a year ago. I almost clapped my hands in glee after the warm-up. When the first full song began, the notes Erik played blended so intricately with my voice that I found myself watching him play. Our sound was exquisite and I knew if he sang with me it would be the most glorious thing I would ever experience. I was swept into the music by his deft graceful hands, stroking the keys with his gloved fingertips like he was very fond of them. His usual grace oozed from him, moving to the music with such feeling, that I couldn't help but be caught within that feeling. Gone was the stoic guardian and stern instructor that I had become fond of, to be replaced by a beautiful vulnerable touchable man. I kept feeling the urge to move towards him as I sang. I was used to watching his face as I sang, looking for a sign of my progress or defeat but now I couldn't tear my eyes from him. He seemed to breathe with the music, his shoulders rolling forward, his head lowered, swaying slightly and I swayed with him, lost to the demands of our music. I stared at him, wanting to bridge a physical connection so the music could pulse through us both as one. My hand reached out to him and I missed a few notes as my throat tightened. I stopped singing and Erik opened his eyes, his hands lifting from the keys to float down to his lap.

"Do you require more warm up? I had thought less would be sufficient since we are warmer here than on the roof." It was as if the music played by his hands had primed me for his voice and I drank down the sound of it with a shiver. Even though I had just listened to him speak for the last hour or more, it still wasn't enough. It was like his voice was food and I never had my fill.

He was looking at me and I had no clue what my face looked like right then, frightened, wary, awed. His face was a blank hard mask, just as severe as the white one that covered him and I wanted to see it soft again.

"Could I have some water, Erik?" I lifted my hand to my braid, just like I always did when nervous and he uncurled his tall lean body from the piano bench.

"Of course."

I watched him walk to the kitchen with that captivating gate of his, my eyes riveted to the movement of his limbs. What extra motion made his movements so fluid, so graceful, and so beautiful to watch? I closed my eyes and turned around suddenly breathing awkwardly. I felt warm and dizzy and reached out for the piano to steady my weak knees. I covered my face with one hand to center myself.

"Are you well, Christine?" he asked from behind me and I turned quickly.

"I feel a bit faint is all," I felt flushed too and reached gratefully for the water. "Thank you," I took the glass he offered, my fingers brushing his gloved ones lightly. He tensed and stepped away putting his long gloved hands behind his back.

"Perhaps you should sit down. We can try having a lesson later, if you feel better." I swallowed some water, thirsty for the cool slickness and then paused to reply.

"Alright," he didn't move as I took another quick drink.

"You can sit in my chair if you like?" he gestured towards the fireplace and my eyes followed the gentle unfolding of his hand to his cozy armchair.

"Alright," I said again and then realized I'd just said that.

"Would you like to read something?" he began walking and I followed with the third alright forming on my lips. I bit my lip instead as I put my glass down on the small table beside his chair and began to peruse the bookshelves again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him rotating the burning logs and adjusting the fire-screen. I turned with Romeo and Juliet in my hands.

"Please feel free to interrupt me should you need anything," his voice swirled in my ears and I cherished every syllable before he moved to his desk.

I wanted to ask him what he was doing as well as a million other things but wanted some time to collect myself and was excited to read the play. Papa had told it to me a few times but I'd never read the whole romantic story myself. I curled into his chair, warm by the fire and began reading.

---

Erik

---

I pulled out my plans for the new house. I hadn't even been to the site yet so the plans were in the very preliminary stages. I spread them out before me and then sat there staring at them.

Who was I kidding? I couldn't work while Christine sat in my armchair by the fire, so absorbed in the book, her hair glistening, her eyes excited. Watching her curl into the seat comfortably and eagerly open the book had melted me a little and I had a hard time turning away from her. I wondered if she would be so comfortable here if she knew the man that I once was. Would she be angry I didn't give her full disclosure upon our first meeting? My eyes travelled the mock-sketch of a possible kitchen. I heard her turn the page and I twitched. Damn noisy paper.

I stared at the lines that sectioned off the possible position for the stone oven, pondering if it was the best place for it, if it was on the south wall it could heat the three bedrooms on the side. I lost myself in the complications of prime oven location and she turned another page as I ground my teeth.

How was I to concentrate with all the noise she was making? I made some noise of my own, shuffling papers, moving rulers and ink from one side of the desk to the other and opening drawers as if searching for something and then realized how completely childishly I was behaving. Besides that everything I could possibly need was already on the desk. I sat with my hands in my lap feeling stupid, until another page turned.

Tension sang up my back and I got up quickly to hide in my room for awhile.

---

Christine

---

The beginning was different than I remembered, Papa never re-enacted Romeo killing Juliet's cousin. Of course Papa was notorious for leaving out things that he didn't find integral to the storyline so I read on, waiting for the young lovers to meet.

At one point Erik quickly got up and went to his room for awhile but I was now wholly involved in the story of the Montagues and Capulets. I had just reached the balcony scene, my favorite part, when I felt a queer sensation. I glanced up to see what Erik was doing and found him staring at me. I looked back down at the book but couldn't concentrate enough to keep reading. It took a few minutes to convince myself that he was merely lost in thought and just happened to be looking in my direction and he wasn't actually staring at me, just in this general direction. My eyes roamed over the words in front of me. Not reading, just looking at the curves of the letters, the patterns they created on the paper. I finally decided to check my theory and glanced up again just lifting my lashes enough to see that he indeed had turned his chair right around and was ignoring his desk to have his penetrating eyes on me. I flushed and looked back down at the book. Those eyes of his could pierce into you and read the essence of your very soul and even though I was pretending to read my book with my eyes cast down I could tell that he himself had still not moved. He stayed there in his chair, his long fingers stippled together, his elbows resting comfortably on the armrests and his eyes burning into the top of my head.

After another few minutes of pretending to read I realized that I hadn't turned a page in a very long time. My ruse was up, I looked up at him to let him see I saw him staring but it didn't change his position or his gaze. He seemed to be studying me with intensity and I began to warm under his scrutinizing eyes. I looked back at the book self-consciously though he was now fully aware that I was not reading it.

A few more minutes ticked by and finally I scrapped together enough courage to say something. I sighed as I straightened, "It is rude to stare at people, Erik."

His eyebrow rose, his lips pressed and I thought he might actually laugh for a second but then he bowed his head briefly, his face once more blank. "I was unaware of that. My apologies," and he turned back to his work as if he hadn't just stared at me for the better part of half an hour. He studied me like I was artwork on display for him or a creature from another land that he'd never laid eyes on before and he was very curious about me. Belatedly I realized that I often spent not only my lessons but most of my free time staring at him curiously or vacantly and now had informed him my own behavior was rude.

I looked back at the book with burning cheeks and didn't particularly feel like reading anymore. I noted the page and closed the book to stare into the fire. The last time I sat by a fire was with Papa in our hotel room. I closed my eyes, while I reminisced, to stem the flow of tears that always came with thoughts of my father. The fire crackled amiably as I recalled so many nights with Papa in front of our fireplace in our home. My thoughts wandered as I replayed memories and happy times.

---

Erik

---

Staring is rude! That was laughable. As a boy people had always stared at me. She herself spent all her time staring at me. Or was that okay because I was a freak? I was an abnormality so common courtesy was not afforded to me.

But her? All the heavens scream no! Cast your eyes from our angel! Strike ye down who dares trespass on this Angel of Light! One can not stare at the face of an angel. It is rude to stare and ponder how she has such power over the wretched beast I have become.

I grunted at myself. I was going insane.

I wanted to run and hide to pace my room again but became aware of a soft growling sound. I looked over my shoulder at Christine as she shifted sleepily in my chair and continued to snore peacefully. I watched her sleep contentedly, one long loosened curl crossing her face, swaying gently in her expelled breath. My own breath quickened. She would not be able to stop me if I choose to rise this moment and walk to her just to twirl that lock of her hair around my finger or to touch that smooth, rosy, soft looking cheek. I turned back and stared at my gloved hands in horror at what they wanted to do.

I once fought a lion with a small blade. I once faced a crowd of men with only my Punjab lasso as a weapon and a loincloth to cover me. I once was beaten so hard that I laid on the floor of my dark cell for five days with no food or water before I tried to move again. Even after all of those things I'd never been so terrified as I was right this moment.

---

Christine

---

The clock chimed and I wondered how many times it had rung. Was it once or did I only hear the last of many? I opened my eyes and the fire was burned down considerably. I sat up holding the blanket that was draped over me.

"Good evening, Christine," I turned to see Erik by the kitchen pulling on his gloves. I caught only a tiny bit of white skin before his even whiter gloves covered everything. I wanted to speak but brought my hand to my throat knowing my rules. How long had I been asleep? If it was a short time surely I could talk…

I looked for the clock that sat by the entrance amidst the cloaks. Six o'clock! I stood quickly embarrassed that I'd slept for so long. Did I snore? I was suddenly dizzy and my knees turned to water.

Erik came into view glaring down at me prone on the floor. He knelt by my side taking my wrist in his hands and commanded, "Do not speak!" He popped out his pocket watch and pressed on my wrist while his eyes stayed on the watch for some reason. I fainted again? I closed my eyes wondering if I was ill.

"When did you last eat?" he asked suddenly and I opened my eyes to his disapproving face. "Did you eat dinner last night?"

I realized my problem instantly and shook my head abashed.

"Lunch?" he asked but I'd been dancing and excited about seeing the Phantom's home. I shook my head again and his frown deepened. "Please tell me you at least ate breakfast?" he was incredulously angered and I blushed at the tone of his voice but happily nodded for him. He pressed his lips together and then delicately took my arm.

"Let me help you up," he said, much nicer than his last few words to me. He carefully positioned his hand between my shoulder blades while pulling gently on my arm and I was suddenly standing, though not of my own volition. His hands steadied me and when I could hold myself upright he let go. He gestured elegantly towards the kitchen and walked ahead of me to pull out a chair as he spoke. "You must forgive me. I often only eat once a day and was not thinking that you clearly must eat at some point. Dinner is ready." I sat as primly as I could after sleeping once and fainting twice in front of him and he served me some type of stew with bread and butter, abruptly ordering me to 'Eat'. I did as he said, mostly because I was starving but also because I couldn't talk anyway so what else was I to do.

The silence thickened until I felt like swallowing and chewing were absurdly loud. My hunger was the only thing that kept me eating but I did take the time to sneak glances at Erik. He constantly had to take care of me and not for the first time I wondered why he did. Papa cared for me because he was my blood, my father. But this solitary man was now my care giver and I knew nothing about him. Where did he learn to take such good care of a bumbling forgetful child?

The stew was very good and watching Erik eat delicate little mouthfuls made me blush into my bowl. I never imagined him eating and to sit here with him and share a meal that he himself prepared suddenly seemed very intimate. I stared into my bowl as I steadly emptied it wondering why it was so odd to see Erik eat. Was it because I still foolishly thought him supernatural because of his voice, his grace, his elegant clothing? He was human just like me and needed to feed his body but it still struck me oddly. Did I think that because he lived below the ground that he would tear meat and bread with his teeth and hands like an animal?

I felt myself pale as the word animal slid through my mind. I thought of the threatening animalistic side of Erik. His angry volatile gestures and distorted face, the malformed lips that were rough but soft at the same time…

I burned with heat and took a long swallow of the water that he had also placed in front of me. The silence began to mellow into a comfortable one and I thought of how aware he was of my possible needs; a blanket over me while I slept, a cloak when I had none, a meal, some water, a guardian, a friend, music…

Papa and I had lived for music, always singing and laughing or playing the piano and violin together. When he was suddenly gone from me, I had fallen into an unreal world where everything was silent and cold. I realized that I wasn't in that scary place anymore and there was only one reason. I looked up at Erik under my lashes knowing I would never take music for granted again.

He looked up as if he could feel my gaze and heat flooded my chest as his grey eyes met mine.

"You may speak now if you like," he said softly and I almost sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness," I said as I straightened, "I was wondering if we would resort to sign language to communicate." I smiled and though he did not smile back I imagined his face was softer. I so wanted to see him smile that I pressed on with a silly joke. "I wonder what an argument in sign language would look like."

He raised one brow, "Perhaps larger gestures?" he offered. I laughed at the thought but not too much because laughing alone was always uncomfortable. I wanted to continue teasing jokes out of him but suddenly wondered what I would do if I couldn't call for help and needed it.

My effort at silliness had turned serious and troubled, I asked, "How do you suppose you could yell for help if you could not yell at all?" I didn't wait for an answer but continued on, wanting to lighten my sudden dark mood, "Maybe they throw many things and break dishes?"

"You could be correct," he wiped his mouth minutely as if it hadn't needed it but he replicated the gesture perfectly. "If I was deaf and dumb I would have killed myself years ago."

I drew in a sharp breath. "Don't say that," I whispered, horrified at the ease with which he spoke of the ultimate sin.

"Forgive me Christine," he rose smoothly to clear the table. "The thought of being alone and cocooned in my mind is not a pleasant one." He reached to take my empty bowl and I touched his gloved hand. He froze and time stood still as I looked into his blank handsome half a face. Questions flitted through my head but I carefully sorted the unimportant ones, searching for the perfect one to get him to talk to me and open up.

---

Erik

---

She was touching me! Why was she touching me? Her hand was so gentle and warm and her eyes asked hundreds of questions, reminding very much of Nadir, before she settled on one.

"What kind of life have you known to say such a thing?" the sincerity burned within her, turning her golden eyes to flame. I was trapped in her burning gaze and by her soft touch, I had to tell her. I should not have waited for her to ask but been a man and told her. But, I suppose, it was too late for me to pretend to be a man. Monsterous letch was more intune.

"A hard one," I began knowing I might as well begin and felt a seizure in my chest. Surely she will run now, once she knows the things I've done. No one this good could think kindly of someone like me. I wished I could hide from this in my room or just tell her nothing at all.

"Will you tell me, Erik?" her sweet voice was timid as she followed me to the sink and I knew if I wanted to, I could say no and she would not ask again. But it was impossible for me to deny her. Did I think if I gave this angel whatever she wanted that my sins would be forgiven? Nonsense.

Her being here was utterly ridiculous already! I should tell her my misdeeds if only to scare her off, make her run back to her room and straight to Raoul, begging to be shipped home to get away from me. I was sure that it would happen, I could see it happening. It would be the best thing for her, to be back where she was once happy. Surely that would be better for this precious child, to get her away from me, and my constant darkness. But what would that do to me, to make her fear me?

There was something that drew me to this girl right from the beginning when her frantic sobbing on the roof had rattled in my head. I'd never before approached someone to offer comfort, what made her so different? I still didn't know but if I managed to scare her away then I might as well just roll over and die. I suddenly didn't want to end this tired existence, because I wasn't so tired anymore. She had brought meaning back to my life. I had a purpose because she needed someone to care for her and secondary to that, her singing talents needed guidance.

Maybe if I told her things gently, she may forgive me all of my trespasses, as she so graciously forgave my first one. I couldn't go into detail but if I gave her the torrid tale in short concise sentences and let her sleep on it, she may just decide to remain my pupil, and leave me with the comfort of her innocent friendship, if she could remain innocent after my life's story.

"Have you heard how I became the phantom?" that was a safe place to start.

"No, most of the girls have tales about you but they think you really are a ghost. Except for Meg…" she looked thoughtful for a moment, "Have you met Meg?" I was surprised she figured that out, unless Meg broke her promise to remain silent…

"Yes, only once about three years ago," I began to pile the dishes and Christine shooed me to begin the washing herself.

"Keep going," she prompted and I did as I watched her scrubbing my dishes in my kitchen.

I told her how I'd accidently ran into Meg on the roof, much like I did with her. The only difference was I didn't give a fig about Meg Giry. Christine, on the other hand I would break my solitude for, become a music teacher for, spend ridiculous quantities of money on, lose sleep over….

"When the theater finally opened, I was disappointed with their performance. Complete lack of stage presence, musical clarity, tone…" I waved my hand, disgusted at the thought of those first shows. It was enough to make me ill. I picked up the towel and began drying dishes and putting them away. "I could not just sit back and do nothing. The managers," being gullible and dense, "Put a lot of stock in magical letters from the Opera Ghost," as well as a disembodied voice calling their names. "They listen even more now that I've pulled them out of debt." I was modestly proud that my 'advice' on which operas to run and which orchestra members to toss had worked wonders.

"People say they've seen you in Box 5, is it yours?" she finished with the dishes and wiped her hands on the end of the towel I was holding. It was endearingly domestic as she pushed that wanton stray curl from her eyes. I wondered what it would be like to have her puttering in my kitchen all the time.

First, tell her your past and then see if she still wants to cook for you.

"No, though I do use it on occasion," I was being cryptic because I was stalling. It was easy to tell her these things and it took longer if she had to drag everything out of me.

There were no more dishes to occupy my hands so I invited her to sit with me on the couch. As soon as we sat she sprang forth with a comment, prodded by my earlier cryptic response.

"You shouldn't use someone's box without their permission, Erik" she reprimanded.

"Nadir is fully aware I sit in his box for some of the performances."

"Who is Nadir?"

Had I truly never mentioned him before? Not that I was a well of information when it came to myself but to not mention his name once this morning when I told her of my business? Did I not tell her that I made him manager last year so that Bernard could concentrate on building my buildings? I suppose I forgot to?

"He is…" I wanted to say my friend but it did not seem appropriate. Nadir and I had never quantified our relationship. I was his servant as a boy, but now that I'd grown into my own man, I was unsure where it left us. I usually ended up falling into my servant role around him, fetching him things or playing for him if he requested. I suppose I was just grateful to him for saving me. Of course the betrayal at his hands always left me wary. "He found me and took me in when I was young," I reminded myself to not go into too much detail. Christine was a sweet innocent girl and though she asked to know my life she had no clue the can of worms she was opening.

"Nadir was a policeman in Persia," she repeated 'Persia' with wonder in her eyes, "He rescued me from some unsavory men who had kidnapped me from the gypsies…"

"Gypsies?" she interrupted.

"Yes," I fought the urge to tell her not to interrupt, "I was travelling with a band of gypsies and was abducted by these men who wanted to sell me in a foreign country. They had six other French children with them for sale. Nadir rescued us from their greedy clutches and I lived with him for quite a few years." My mind wandered to that peaceful time, that simpler life. I could have stayed there forever but Christine brought me back to the task at hand…

"When did you come to Paris?" her question was innocent enough but it opened the floodgates. I had to get up and do something because memories were starting to bite my skin like little red ants. I knelt to tend the fire turning the uncharred parts of the burning logs into the flame, much like I was doing to myself right this moment. Only, I had no uncharred parts. Every part of me was cold, hard, coal, burned up long ago by abuse and anger.

The fire spit at me because I'd left it too long and I jumped back. Christine gasped and was clutching my arm two seconds later.

"Did you get burned? Are you alright?" She patted me, checking for burns or fire, reassuring herself and I marveled at it all. She cared? And she was touching me again! "It was as if a pyre of fire shot out to grab you," she shuddered delicately and then looked up into my face. "You moved very quickly." Her observation brought the memories crashing back and I stepped away before she felt the tremor run through me.

"I move quickly because I have had years to learn," move quickly or get beaten or worse, get killed. I gestured for her to return to her seat. "There was some incident that brought me to the attention of Nadir's superior." I paused here, unsure what to say because I myself had little information on how and why I ended up in front of the Shah. I explained how I studied many things in Nadir's home, music being one of them, and sometimes would play for his guests. After one such evening, we were summoned to the Shah's presence. One of the families from last night's dinner was standing to the side of the assembly hall as I approached, with Nadir beside me.

"They made me remove the mask and the young daughter standing to the side with her parents began screaming. They forcibly removed her from the hall and Nadir conferred quickly with the man who was ruler. I stood there as alone as I've ever felt…" I stopped knowing I was digressing from the main story. "Nadir left me there that day and I never lived in his home again." That was the main point. He left me there without a word and I knew I had displeased him.

Now, onto the worst of it. At first, I'd enjoyed the Shah, I fell into my servant role easily and he taught me many things about people, how to read them and persuade them and then how to kill them.

"I was trained," I began, knowing my voice was the equivalent of cold stone and not being able to stop it. "I thought they meant for me to be a soldier but I was told I was too special. I fought death matches in a pit for sport and was called the Deathbringer."

I looked down at my gloved hands curled over my knees feeling that my old title rang sadly in my new sanctuary. How many nights did I wash the blood from my hands? How many times did they beat me for not dragging it out long enough and simply snapping the opponent's neck in mercy? How many nights did I lie in my cold dark cell wondering if they would ever feed me again? Or was I to be sustained on pain and death alone? Christine was completely silent beside me, not moving at all and I barreled on wanting it all out so I could be done answering her meddling question.

"I could have stopped at anytime and simply allowed one of them to best me but I could not just let myself be killed and therefore," I swallowed, "I killed very many people in Persia. I could only guess at the number, hundreds, I'm sure." She remained stonily silent which was unusual for her, but I was telling her I killed hundreds of people.

"The Shah grew tired of me," again, I was fuzzy on all the details that made him want me gone suddenly but the outcome was, "He sent Nadir to kill me since he was the one who brought me to him in the first place but instead Nadir helped me escape and returned empty handed. He served eight years in prison for not returning with my head," and every time I saw him limp I wondered just what they did to him. Those eight years had left him looking much older than I remembered him looking, his black hair turned grey and his once pleasant voice raspy with ill-use.

"I travelled for a time but returned to Paris because I did not want to settle anywhere else. Two years back, I heard a rumor of a Persian diplomat buying Box 5 and found it to be Nadir." I didn't go into the uncertainty and tension between the two of us when we'd first re-met. I'd finally found some semblance of peace and now this man from my past had returned. It took me a few months before I took him up on his invitation to dine with him in his home as I had as a boy.

She remained silent when I stopped talking. I let the silence echo around us as I stared at the fire. I did not want to turn and look at her. I did not want to see the horror on her face, or see her cowering in the corner of the couch. I did not have the courage to look but after delaying for a few more minutes I couldn't take the suspense. Just get it over with you coward and be ready for a speedy departure.

I stole a look at her and found her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes trembling to overflow with more.

"Erik," my name was a broken sob on her lips as she slid closer to me. Her hands crept to my arm and I stiffened, "I wish…" she stopped herself and her fingers curled into the fabric of my sleeve. "I don't know what to say," she sobbed and then threw her arms around my stiff neck, clutching me in an embrace.

I was shocked and didn't know what to do. Screaming I expected, hatred and fear, I expected but she was sad for me? And she was touching me again! Hugging me! Her face pressed into my neck, her fingers combing the hair at my nape as she breathed hot little sobs on my skin. I wondered if I should relax and put my arms around her but I wasn't sure so I left my hands on my knees.

She pulled away and brushed her fingers under her eyes smearing the tears. "I know that I asked but," her breath hitched, "It's just so sad."

I stood, now that she had let go, feeling light and deflated. "Forgive me for telling you so bluntly but it's quite painful to resurrect the memories." I flipped out my watch. I could have checked the clock at the door but preferred to do something with my hands. It was almost eleven. I studied Christine for a moment as she wiped her face with her hand.

"Come, Christine, it is past time for you to be in bed." I held out my hand to her, impatient to test the waters. She looked at me slowly, raising her eyes from my gloved hand to my masked face and though I was hidden behind my scraps of cloth, I felt bared to her. She knew it all now and still she took my hand and allowed me to lead her to her bedroom door. When I turned to leave her there she clutched at my fingers, my name choked from her throat.

I turned to her not knowing what to expect. She never reacted in any manner that I could control or foresee. She only stared into my eyes, hers lush with emotion.

"Thank you…for…for everything."

I nodded, out of words for tonight and she disappeared into her room.

---

Christine

---

I leaned against the door and heaved a trembling breath. My head was spinning. I had known somewhere deep inside that his life could not have been good for him to hide as he did but to have the story now bared to me. I shuddered, so much to make me cry.

I undid the ties of my dress and shrugged carefully out of it, mindful of the loosening seam on the side. I hung it in the closet beside all those beautiful dresses that were mine. I glanced quickly, counting the hangers, at least, thirty hangers with dresses, shirts and skirts. Part of me wanted to try some on to see how close they were to fitting but I didn't have the energy or the heart to.

I untied the ribbon in my hair and began to pull the braid out. So he grew up with gypsies…

What happened to his parents? Had he ever known them? Did they abandon him? What was a gypsy camp like? What was Persia like? Who was this Nadir? Would I get to meet him eventually? I was full of questions but realized now that they probably caused him a great deal of pain. I was glad I'd asked about his life, glad that he was able to tell me and not deny me that question. But I was not glad that it hurt him to bring it up.

His personal pain had been tangible around us and I wished I could have grabbed it and dashed it into the fire, if only it were so easy to discard. The way he coolly clipped his sentences was much different from this morning's flowing story of his business and its rising. He spoke like he was containing something much larger within him and it caused an ache within me that I couldn't explain.

I sat at the powder table in my chemise to brush out my hair. It was no wonder he never spoke of himself. Did he have any happy memories at all? My whole life I'd been sheltered and loved. It seemed like all Erik had known was unkindness and cruelty. I stared at myself in the mirror as the brush slid through my hair absently.

He didn't hug me at all when I'd hugged him….had he never had a hug before? Did he not know what to do or did he just not want me to hug him?

He hid all his misery so well that I would never have thought…

Of course I would never have thought…

"I could only guess at the number, hundreds, I'm sure," his cool voice rang in my ears and I watched my eyes in the reflection. Hundreds killed by his graceful hands. How could it be true?

I swallowed the tears and replaced the hairbrush on the table, letting my posture sag forward. I brought my knees up to hold them tightly as I stared down at my bare toes. I wasn't ready to go to sleep. My mind would never let me with so many unanswered questions. I wanted to walk back out and bravely ask him my questions. I wanted to curl up and cry for Erik's lost happiness. I wanted to make him smile and laugh, surely he still had it in him? I wanted to hold him and let him know he didn't have to hide down in these cellars.

Tonight I wanted to tell him his past did not matter. He had been exceedingly kind to me and taught me so much and bought me so many things. I wouldn't hold his past against him. I wasn't afraid of his face or the things that he'd done. The threatening man that stalked me across his living area my first night, scared me quite a lot, but I had forgiven him for his outburst knowing I had cause it with my childishness. Maybe he moved so effortlessly because of years spent dodging death from every angle as a trained killer…

My hands began to tremble and I stood to change my train of thought. I was not afraid of Erik. He would never hurt me, I chanted to myself as I walked into the washroom to ready for bed. I was not scared of him and would prove it to him tomorrow by being nice and smiling as much as I could. I tied my hair back with my ribbon before I washed my face and dried it with a small towel. As the towel lowered I stared at myself in this mirror too.

I was searching for something that I could not find and I was almost surprised it wasn't there. I was looking for the little girl in my eyes, the one that should be horrified that I was living with a killer but I couldn't find her anywhere. I simply was not frightened by Erik.

I gathered my hair over my shoulder and came back out into the bedroom to stare longingly at the door. I wanted to step out and talk to him again and I wasn't sure if it was because I was now wholly addicted to the sound of his voice or maybe I wanted to show him I wasn't scared or maybe I wanted to show myself that I wasn't scared or maybe…

I stomped my foot, completely idiotic since it was a stone floor and probably hurt me more than I will admit. I was not going to go to bed. I had to do something. My body screamed at me to do something while my mind hesitated with endless questions and unknowns.

I pulled on my light blue and white wrapper that Papa bought me for my fifteenth birthday. It had seen better days but it was the only robe I had and I cinched the sash with excessive force as I made up my mind.

The doorknob was cool in my hand as I pulled the door open. The room beyond was already only dimly lit and empty but the door to Erik's room was still open. My heart was pounding as I stepped out of my room.

"Erik?" I called timidly and immediately berated myself. There's no need to be timid. I am an invited guest here. I am the one who asked to know his past and he revealed it, although I was fairly certain he did not want me to know. I realized once he'd revealed all, that his hesitation had been to protect me from further heartache and pain and now I repay him by being scared? I clamped my teeth together and clasped my hands around the tail of my hair hanging down the side of my neck.

"Erik?" I called more confidently but there was still no answer, so I tip-toed out into the room.


	12. The Dance

**Author's note: Thanks to all of you who have been reading and reviewing! It really fires me to write more when I see people are enjoying it. Your comments also make me smile so thank you again for contributing to my happiness.**

**I was unaware that I had disabled anonymous reviews and have since corrected that. If it was holding some of you back, the restraint has been removed. **

**Enjoy! **

**p.s. just to remind you, Christine just tip-toed out into the living area...**

---

Erik

---

I pulled off the mask as I stood in front of my bathroom wash basin. I had no mirror in this room, no mirror anywhere but in Christine's room, no need to torture myself with my own visage. I splashed water on my face and my hands halted for a moment as they touched the marred flesh on my left side. Mother always said it was the left side because I was evil, or was I evil because it was the left side. Either way, my mask had become a part of me. I rarely touched the 'skin' beneath it and mostly forgot it was even on my face. It was molded precisely to the contours of the left side of my face so that as long as my expressions weren't too overt, which was rarely a problem, the mask stayed perfectly settled over my empty cheek. My only issue was the little sore spots that would crop up if I worked with it on. It dug into my nose, the ridge of my cheekbone and my left eyebrow when I worked, probably because I couldn't help a little furrow of concentration while I bricked and mortared. It was another reason I preferred to work at night. Monsters only come out in the dark.

I grabbed the towel and dried it off. Tomorrow was already wednesday and I hadn't ventured to the current house site in almost a week. Bernard was almost done and I was going to delay the completion if I didn't visit and finish my work. I just didn't know what to do with Christine. I would have to think on it.

Which was not hard to do because my thoughts kept drifting to her anyway. I had a woman staying in my domain. She knew my terrible past, my gross misdeeds against humanity, my horrible face and yet, she had not recoiled from me. She held me! Even brief as it was, I had never been held before by anyone and now Christine had done it twice. I liked my first hug far more, but the thought of it made me think of other not so innocent things and I hastily replaced my mask, pressing it tightly into place.

She is an angel for accepting all you've told her. How dare you have lecherous thoughts about her! You should be flogged for even looking at her! I railed at myself for a few minutes and then realized I was truly insane over her. I saw her as this untouchable angel of light and mercy that had descended into the darkness to save the monster. I was crazy.

I pulled down my robe tiredly. Crazy or not, I still had to put out the fire in the living area.

---

Christine

---

The door to his bedroom was ajar and I could see his bed through the crack. The bedspread was plush and black, with dark red cushions and drapery framing the intricately carved wooden headboard. The luscious darkness, and immense size of the bed stopped me in my tracks and I stared at the shimmer and flicker of candlelight on the dark sheen of his bed linens.

I closed my eyes to halt the charging of my heart. Breathe, I told myself. It is just a bed.

I crossed to his desk which had been cleared except for blank paper and ink. I was not going to snoop through his drawers. I turned to the piano and ran my fingers over the keys remembering how he'd played this morning and during our short lesson. I could barely believe I'd only been here for one day. It seemed much longer than just one day.

I heaved a sigh as I traced a black key with one fingertip.

"Christine?" I jumped a foot in the air at my name on Erik's lips and spun around to behold him framed in the doorway to his room. The door was wide open and I could see a plush fur rug mounded with colorful equally plush pillows. There was a black divan beside the fireplace that currently held no fire. My eyes flicked back to Erik.

His hair was messy and flopping forward over the eye in the mask, covering the top portion of the mask and causing him to peek through the strands at me, looking extremely young, though the look in his eyes under his hair was not a young look. He was surprised but sad and tired in a way that made him seem centuries old. He was wearing an oriental looking short robe of black satin with gold and red threads winking at me in the low light over a pair of loose black pants. It was wrapped tightly around his torso and he looked strong and lean, the vee of his chest, pale and unblemished.

"Is everything alright?" he ran his hand through his hair to try to pull it back into place and I noticed he no longer had his gloves on. I hadn't noticed right away because his hands were so white they were almost the same color as his gloves. The pale slender perfection of his hand rode through the black silk of his hair again and my breath caught in my throat. I reached out to him sort of desperately and he responded accordingly. He came forward quickly his hands out to help me. Our bare fingers brushed and lighting ran up my arm. Before he could react and step away from me, I pushed our hands together, entwining my fingers with his. I heard his breath leave his body and I felt like mine was locked in place. We both stared at our intertwined fingers.

His were so long and delicately made compared to mine, his touch cool and callused. The interlacing felt very intimate, especially since we were both in only our nightclothes. I had to try twice to answer his question, there was a lump in my throat, but I finally managed to say, "Everything is fine."

---

Erik

---

I'd been embarrassed that she saw me with my hair mussed. I had a bad habit of running my hands through it when I took off my gloves. And my gloves were definitely no longer on my hands and now I was looking down at my bare grotesque hand laced with hers and words were difficult to formulate.

"Everything is fine," she whispered quietly. That tore my eyes from our hands because when I'd asked if she was okay she hadn't seemed to be. She'd looked wide eyed and out of breath and almost frightened.

"I could not go to sleep leaving this unfinished," her voice came stronger and surer of itself if still not very loud. Leaving what unfinished? What the devil was she talking about?

Her hand rose to my mask and I stiffened waiting for her to do her worst. Would she rip it off to remind herself of the beast? Would she ply me for more information?

Her fingertips stroked the cheek of the mask and my eyes widened.

"You know that I am very grateful for you, right?" she stroked my masked cheek again and I felt like I might have a stroke. The way she was looking up at me made me wonder if she was sleep walking. Surely she was not in her right frame of mind to be touching me and looking at me so…so…adoringly.

"I thank God every night that you came into my life," and she wrapped her arms around me again trying to give me her gratitude and adoration but I stiffened against it and she pulled away blushing and looking down.

"I'm s-sorry," she stammered as she stepped away, "I know you don't like to be touched." I stared at her, barely believing that I'd just ruined feeling her body against mine and wanting to fix it right away.

"It's not that I do not like to be touched," I explained quickly. "I merely am not used to the physical contact." And I want to touch you so badly that it seems wrong to get what I want.

She smiled shyly at me, "And I am very used to physical contact."

My heart hammered in my chest at the small smile on her face. No one had ever been grateful for me, and I highly doubt anyone had ever thanked God for my existence. No one but this beautiful lonely creature who was craving physical contact and I, like some kind of moron, had declined?

"I suppose I could get used to it," I was trying to keep her from hearing the excitement and longing in my voice but knew it had come out completely wrong. How could she stand my constant rudeness?

She chewed on her lip briefly, her brow furrowed at me, "You make it sound like a chore."

"That was not my intention," I said quickly, bowing my head in apology, wondering if I had already botched this terribly. Why couldn't I just behave properly around her? I stared down at her bare toes for a moment and she stepped forward, hiding them from my view. I looked up so she wouldn't think my eyes had travelled anywhere else on her body and she was reaching for me. I felt extremely awkward as she slipped her arms around me and cuddled her cheek to my chest. I stiffened against her softness, unsure of myself, unsure what was proper when all I could think of was running my hands over her hair, through her hair, down her back, holding her tight to my body, feeling her gentle curves against my hard planes…

"Please Erik," she begged squeezing me even tighter, "Let me hold you."

I willed myself to relax. She wants to hold you! Let her hold you, fool! I breathed out slowly letting some tension unravel from my shoulders and down my back. She knew the things I'd done and what I looked like beneath the mask and she still wanted to hold me. I was a bewildered mix of wanton desire and childlike wonder. With all the tentativeness of a young boy I reached up to touch her hair, still waiting for my hand to be slapped away. When she didn't, I pulled the ribbon from her hair and watched as her hair sprang outward to double its size. I ran my bare hand over the curls feeling how soft and springy they were. Suddenly eager, I buried both hands deep into the abundance of curls and held her fast to my body. I clutched to her like a life-raft as I drowned in her acceptance. It flowed between us and cleansed me. It flowed over me and christened me with her energy. I couldn't breathe as her grip tightened on me, to the point that I thought I might black out and then she loosened with a sigh and relaxed into me, as comfortable in my arms as she had been sitting in my armchair. Her hands began stroking my back and I knew it was time to pull away before my body began to embarrass me.

I held her away from me by her shoulders and we stared at one another. The firelight behind her lit her hair with sparkling colors and though her delicate features were shadowed from the dim room, they somehow were radiant. Her hair glistened like a halo around her head and she glowed, truly like an angel, in her thin pale robe.

Of course she was an angel, to accept me, damaged as I am.

I struggled to say something eloquent, something beautiful to extend this moment. I wanted to cling to this moment of intimacy, explore it completely. "You have the most spectacular hair," I lifted strands and let them fall from my fingers slowly.

Christine's lashes fluttered as she smiled and looked down demurely. "Thank you," she reached for said hair and I knew she was uncomfortable. It was her tell. I stepped away figuring I'd crossed the friendship line. So a passionate hug is okay but I can't give you a compliment? I wanted to grunt again but manfully squashed the urge.

"My father always loved my hair," her voice was thick, "He said it was like my mother's but I don't really remember…" she couldn't go on and I stood there like a dolt. She heals me and then seeks me to heal her but I had no knowledge of those powers. She looked away and wiped her face trying to be discreet. I automatically reached for my handkerchief and realized I was standing before her in my nightclothes and she was standing there in her threadbare robe that did nothing to conceal how short her chemise was or the curve of her hip and the line of her bare legs beneath. She shifted and the fire, that so romantically set her hair ablaze, was now setting my loins ablaze by revealing the break between her two legs.

That fire needed to be put out.

I stomped over to the fire and set about my task, rather harshly seeing as the fire had kept us warm all day and barely deserved my rude disturbance of its hot glowing embers. My jaw was clamped rather tightly and when Christine sniffed indelicately I felt even worse. How do you comfort an angel? These death dealing hands shouldn't even be touching this angel.

I definitely had to get better at this. I wanted to be around her but she needed comfort and 'physical contact' with another human and if I couldn't control my mindless lust to feel a woman's body next to mine…I didn't even need to finish that thought. I would never rape her, I sneered at the dying fire. But touching her….I could get used to it, my words came back to me. If she wanted physical contact then I would just submit myself to whatever she wanted.

I smiled, a rare occurrence, and I was glad she couldn't see the smile. It felt devilish on my lips and I closed my eyes to quell the feeling as I rose.

Which turned out to be a stupid thing to do. Closing your eyes as you stand. You would think I would have more grace than to step on the sash of my robe, not only opening the knot but half yanking it off my shoulder as I stumbled unable to fully rise. I quickly righted it and myself but Christine, who so kindly told me staring was rude, happened to be staring at me and by the look on her face, had seen quite a lot of my pale scar riddled torso. She looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head as she backed a few steps and then stammered, "I th-think I sh-should go to bed."

I agreed heartily. Yes, get this strange, exhilarating day over with. Run off to bed, blessed angel and innocent siren.

"Good night Erik," she called softly from her door before it closed and I was left alone in my dark living room. I wondered if every day was going to be as frustrating and enjoyable as today had been.

---

Christine

---

As soon as I closed the door I let out a trembling breath. It was becoming a regular thing, me trembling for a moment when I left his sight but it wasn't fear that caused my body to shudder. It was sheer exhilaration.

I felt like a fairytale beauty who was taming the wild beast. His wonder at my actions had been visible on his face, almost as if I so bewildered him that he couldn't conceal it. When it took him so long to put his arms around me and then he held me so tightly, I'd known he had never had a hug before and the power I felt as I held him had rushed from my head to my toes.

The sight of his partially bared chest though, had startled me badly. Not because it was hideous but because it was not. Even with various scars and one particularly bad one that slashed through his nipple, his chest had looked so pale that I wanted to put my hand next to it to marvel at the difference and so tight and hard and hairless and…

Not something I should be thinking about! I burned though, because I'd wanted to peel the robe from him to see the scars that his terrible life had left on his body. Of course he would have scars stupid girl, he fought hundreds of people in duels to the death. Perhaps his face was a result of one of the victorious battles. The thought still made me tremble, that he at one time had done nothing but kill people.

But it wasn't as if Erik had asked for that life. He'd had no choice, kill or be killed. His life or theirs? It wasn't a choice at all.

Thinking of our hug lightened my mood again. I'd never been hugged so completely or so thoroughly. I was glad he would let me touch him, to me it seemed odd not to, so his permission eased that awkwardness. I was also glad it was not my touch that made him tense but the unfamiliarity with it.

I stripped off the robe and tossed it over the chair as I climbed into bed. The sheets were cool but began to warm immediately under the substantial blankets as I prayed. I started with the Lord's Prayer as I usually did, and felt like I wasn't just saying it for me anymore. I didn't know if anyone had taught Erik about the benevolence of God but perhaps if I prayed for him, God would hear me and give him some comfort. For as much as he hid behind his cool façade, I knew now that it was only another mask. The true man was revealed in the turbulent sorrow in his eyes and the desperate way he hugged me. It showed me more effectively than a thousand words how truly alone he felt.

I would fix that. I burrowed into the blankets and got a mouthful of hair. I quickly jumped up to get another ribbon. If I left it loose at night it turned into a rat's nest on my head so I was quite diligent about tying it up. I crawled back into the soft bed thinking of Papa and how he used to braid my hair for me every night, lovingly combing out the knots. Tears filled my eyes and I rolled onto my back to stare at the dim ceiling.

At least I was not alone. I had Erik. Was I truly the first person to be kind to him and see beyond his face and his cold demeanor? It was a terrible thought, to be so alone for his whole life.

But then, he did say he just wanted to be left alone. That thought was even more terrible. He thought he deserved to be alone.

Tears spilled from my eyes more for Erik than for Papa but I cried myself to sleep so often that I couldn't even remember it in the morning.

---

Erik

---

Sleep, an elusive and evil mistress, as always. Without my drug induced slumber I was forced to wake numerous times, each time some dream tearing me from my restless oblivion to thrust me back into my reality with a panicked heart. After a particularly vivid dream where I was covered in my own blood and shackled to a wall, the sound of a whip in my ears, I rose shakily to start the day.

The little sleep that I'd managed to get was barely comfort to the vivid images that would now plague me through the day. I hated to sleep without my concoction but I couldn't blissfully snooze while Christine was left alone. What if she needed something or what if she got worried at my absence and tried to come in and wake me and couldn't and began to panic…

I would just make do without sleep and make myself some very strong coffee.

---

Christine

---

When I woke, in what I assumed was the morning, I was left with a feeling of peace. I didn't know if I'd dreamed but I felt the joy that a new day brings fill me and opened the closet to take a look at all these clothes he bought for me.

They were all exquisitely made, some very fancy, meant for parties and others meant to wear in the home and I found two new wrappers in the back, one black and one white. The black one reminded me of his so I pulled it out, knowing mine was quite tired, and then stared at it hypnotized by the picture that was embroidered magnificently around it.

It could only be the glorious peacock. The blue slender necked bird had a tail like an enormous fan made of those splendid feathers. A tear came to my eye at the sight.

I wanted to rush out and thank him profusely but then thought it might make me seem less excited about everything else he'd purchased and done for me. I also was not fit to be seen yet so I pulled it on over my old wrapper and tied the sash. It was similar to his oriental robe but longer and I wondered if those winking threads last night had been in the shape of an animal. The sleeves were large bells of fabric and I felt extravagant as I looked into the mirror.

The only time I'd worn black was to my father's funeral and that dress had been borrowed. My skin looked very pale next to the black, almost translucent, as tears filled my eyes. I quickly busied myself washing my face and as I dried it I peeked at my reflection one more time from behind the towel. The black did suit me. It made my lips look redder, my skin look whiter and my hair and eyes more golden than the boring brown that I knew they were.

I didn't feel like me in it and I took off the beautiful garment and hung it back up.

Today was the second practice I was missing and I felt guilty for being absent. Mme Giry may decide I was too much trouble, seeing as I was not the most effortless dancer and now I was missing practices too. I laced on the ballet slippers that Meg had loaned me and warmed up my legs while I began to warm my voice. I hummed to myself as I plied and stretched. Minutes passed as I tried to practice the dances I'd been taught in the confines of the bedroom, but after a few near mishaps I thought I better stop lest I break something of Erik's.

Thinking of Erik made me realize I had no clue what time it was and I wondered if I should make an appearance. I hadn't heard the piano yet but he was probably up. I thought I should check and quickly pulled all my hair back and grabbed the plain white wrapper from the back of the closet. I made sure the wrapper was tightly closed over my chemise and then cracked the door open to peek.

The fire was crackling happily and all the lamps and candles were blazing. A strange pleasant smell assaulted me and I inhaled deeply opening the door all the way. What was that aroma?

Erik was at his desk, writing but he turned at the sound of my door with all of his masks in place.

"Good morning," I smiled shyly walking out towards him. He uncoiled himself from the chair and stood to bow formally to me.

"Good morning Christine," I shivered at the first dose of the day of his intoxicating voice. Every time he opened his mouth was a miraculous event. "Would you care for some coffee or shall I make you some tea?" he offered and I wondered if coffee is what I was smelling and decided to try something new.

"Coffee please. Thank you."

He moved into the kitchen, elegant as always, in his choice of clothing. The pants and vest were both ebony black and the contrast of the white dress shirt made the royal blue ascot stand out as if it was made of sapphires. His hair gleamed as if still wet and he looked very glamorous, and here I was wearing only a wrapper with my hair in a ponytail.

I followed him and glanced at the wall where he'd made that crack disappear yesterday. There was no crack this morning and I wondered if I'd imagined it. I stood by the table tracing patterns with my fingers while he poured me a cup and placed the saucer in front of me.

"Would you care to sit?" he asked as he pulled out the chair for me. I watched his fingers gesture to the seat and with a quiet thank you, lowered myself down. He was wearing his gloves again. I had hoped that after last night he would trust me more.

I cupped the teacup in my hands and inhaled over the inky brown liquid. It smelled divine but my mind was preoccupied with how incongruous it was to have him hiding in his own home. How could I tell him it was not necessary without embarrassing him? Did he always dress up to this degree? Was he doing it because I was here? He looked like opulent royalty as he sat across from me, with his own cup retrieved from his desk, and caught my staring eye. I looked away as my cheeks heated.

I wanted him to be comfortable around me but then I still felt so awkward around him. I lifted the coffee to finally taste this wonderful smelling drink, not knowing what else to do.

---

Erik

---

The morning had begun at my writing desk, fortified with coffee, with a quill poised and ready to put words, ideas, or experiments to paper. But I sat there seized with thoughts of Christine. I frowned at the blank paper knowing exactly why my brain was so full of her image. She had not reacted at all as I'd expected, her tears of compassion, not of terror and her gentle touch, her fierce hug. My frown relaxed as I thought of something to put on paper. I began to draw absently thinking of her face. I didn't understand why she was still here, maybe she knew she could not take care of herself and was willing to endure me to receive the level of care she required. She was proving to be quite a delicate creature, but against all the odds, I still had her here under my wing and I would not question it.

I put down the ink, a rough image of an averted face, sketched quickly. It was Christine, her hair unbound, her head bowed, her lashes would look as if they were resting on her cheeks, those cheeks flushed with emotion, her lips curved slightly…

I stood to refill my coffee my hands lightly trembling.

Was this love? This quickening in my breast at the mere thought of her, the breathless wonder when she touched me, the confused thoughts when she spoke to me…

Was this only lust? Surely that made more sense. She was absolutely beautiful and was not obverse to spending time with me. What more did I need to lust after her?

Could I feel both lust and love towards her? Or after quenching my desire to taste her would I lose interest? My lips twitched realizing I'd already tasted her and it had done nothing to quench my darkest desires. I licked my lips remembering the soft silky feel of her mouth against mine and the curved allure of her womanly form pressed…

I hastily swallowed some coffee to steady myself. That is not why she is here, Erik! She needs your protection, not your erection.

I glanced at her closed door wondering what was keeping her from coming out. Was she afraid now? I turned back to the desk and stared at the picture I'd drawn. I slid it into one of my drawers so as not to embarrass Christine should she come out and find me fantasizing about her.

I picked up the quill and stared at the blank paper again.

COME ON! I prompted myself. Think of something besides this utterly fascinating woman…

Her door opened right then and I practically tripped over myself to bow to her and get her settled at the table with some coffee. Her hair was pulled back tightly this morning and it made her look very young and fresh with no hair to distract from the radiance in her eyes. I wondered how she could still look so innocent after hearing I was a killer.

She was wearing her ballet slippers and the new white wrapper that I'd purchased for her. I was glad to see her in something I bought but wondered why she hadn't dressed yet. I preferred for her to be fully dressed because then it would not be so terrifyingly easy to undress her. Not that I would ever remove her clothing. I rolled my eyes at myself as I retrieved my coffee from the desk. But if she closed her eyes while trying to stand...

I sat across from her wondering what questions she would have for me today but she barely looked at me. She kept her head bowed over her cup and sipped and smelled in delicately little movements for a good ten minutes until I decided I would have to be the one to start the conversation.

"Do you need to practice your dancing?" her head came up, one hand pulling some curls over her shoulder to toy with them idly.

"I do. We practice every day, whether we have parts or not. It keeps us moving together and then those of us who do not have a part can…" she trailed off as she met my eye and I wasn't sure what on my face persuaded her to stop. I encouraged her to continue with a raised eyebrow.

"Can what?" I pressed and she blushed and looked back into her cup. How she managed to look both alluring and unsure at the same time I do not know. Maybe it was just me and my warped view of things.

"Well, we can..." she began tracing patterns on the table, "we can substitute if someone falls ill. Practicing every day together keeps us from getting lazy or forgetting the dances." She seemed uncomfortable so I took over.

"You have no part in the current opera but if someone were to injure themselves or fall ill then you could take their place seamlessly. It is a perfectly sound training habit." It had been one of my suggestions that the dancers take larger parts. Mme Giry ran a tight ship and should be able to showcase not just her talent but her talented girls. "Do you require accompaniment?" I wanted to be of service to her, anything she needed or wanted I wanted to give her.

She looked behind her at the piano and chewed thoughtfully on her lip. "That would be very nice of you," she stood smoothing down the front of the wrapper and I stood pulling down on my vest.

"Would you prefer music from the current opera or the next?" I propped open the piano lid and quickly moved some of the furnishings around to give her more room. As I straightened I looked for her because she had yet to answer my question. She looked down when our eyes met and answered quietly.

"The next please." She rose on her toes to test the movement on the carpet and I was riveted to her foot.

"Is the carpet going to hinder you?" I asked politely though I stared impolitely at the arch her slippered foot created while she tested a few pirouettes on the carpet. I wanted to take that foot into my hands and unwrap the ribbons like I was unwrapping a present and then slowly run my fingertips over the ankle bones and up her calf…

I tore my eyes from her feet waiting for her to answer me, ready to roll up the thick carpet if she said it wouldn't work. Her eyes flicked to mine finally and she shook her head. "If I practice on carpet then dancing on the hardwood stage will be like dancing on clouds."

I didn't know what to say to her sudden exuberance so I gestured to the center of the carpet and half bowed as I turned to walk to the piano. She seemed different today. Yesterday she had been quietly eager if a little withdrawn but today she was entirely withdrawn, only speaking if spoken to and afraid to meet my eyes. It was as if she was looking with new eyes and had to become accustomed to it. With my prompting she would answer but she'd yet to ask a single question and I found that I kind of missed them. It certainly filled the awkward silence.

Perhaps, now that she'd had time to fully digest everything I'd told her she was scared. I glanced at her as I sat at the keys, she did seem nervous and it hurt me to see it so clearly.

"When you are ready I will begin with the opening ballet," my voice was curt again, as I drew myself further inside. She did not want to break friendship with me but she was still frightened. Of course she would be frightened. I killed people for a living. I was retired but that can't stop me from being what I am. Monster.

I was watching her blankly waiting for her to nod that I could begin but she kept me waiting. She tested a few movements and then turned her back to me to re-wrap the dressing jacket. She folded it up, pulling the hemline to her knees and tightened the sash expertly so it would not slip down. I almost swallowed my tongue as my hands began to tremble. It was one thing to watch the dancers on stage but to have one with bared legs and slippered feet, alone with a lusting man.

I looked away hastily. What was I doing ogling her like that? My eyes slid back to her as she twirled a few more moves on the carpet, before pulling the ribbon from her hair and shaking her head to muss the curls. She straightened and looked over at me, smiling brilliantly, within her cloud of tousled hair.

"Ready Erik," she beamed and I was stunned. I turned to the keys forgetting what song I was playing for a second. She smiled so intensely. No one who was scared could put the brilliance of the sun into a smile.…could they?

My hands came down on the opening chords, knowing where they had to go. It was a good thing too, because my eyes could spare not a moment for the keys. My eyes were all for her. She moved to the music like she let it inside her and it propelled her through Mme Giry's careful choreography. I'd watched her dance at the Masquerade but somehow this was vastly different. Maybe because I now knew her instead of her being a stranger; maybe because it was so intimate to be creating the music that made her move so enticingly across the floor. She twirled and stretched her body, dancing her way into my heart.

More like my loins, which were noticeably tighter than when she had started. I tried to pry my eyes from her but, traitors that they were, they much preferred to stare, rudely, at Christine. She bent and flexed and moved to the music, kicking her leg up past her head at one point and I had to look away. Don't look. Don't look.

I looked again as she rolled on the floor in a manner that had me grinding my teeth and when she arched into a sitting position and threw her long hair back as she sat up, I fumbled on the keys. I stared at my hands in shock. I NEVER fumbled on the keys.

Of course, I also never had beautiful young women rolling around on my living room floor. Damn Hannibal with the bloody slave girls dancing….

Christine was hugging her legs to her chest with her cheek on her knees, looking at me calmly and I did something else that I never do. I began to stutter.

"F-forgive me I…" scrambled for an excuse, "I forgot to take my gloves off. My hand slipped…" I stopped where I was and began pulling off the gloves. My hand slipped when your sexual movements on my floor made me want to come join you there and take you up into my arms and have your neck bend back just like that while I trailed kisses down to your…

"Did you want to begin from where we left off or do you need to start from the beginning?" please say from where we left off, my brain may die of oxygen deprivation if we have to start again.

"No, here is fine," she said quietly and I glanced at her as she lay back down on the ground. I looked back at the keys. Just kill me now and end my suffering, I begged, but no lighting could reach so far into the ground so I gave her a few bars as lead in and purposefully did not look her way as she sat up and rose to her feet. When she was once more vertical I let out the breath that I'd been holding and concentrated on the music. I closed my eyes and caressed the keys with the emotion that I felt deep inside me and the music began to pulse within me. I began to add to the music using my dexterity to play more than was required. Her dancing practice became secondary as I lost myself in the rhythm, the cadence, the notes. The music danced for me. It swirled madly from my fingers, lush with the desire of my hungry soul. The music was me and I made it for her.

The silence that greeted my ears was ruined only by the thumping in my chest. To give yourself so completely to the music was tiring but I figured I could do one more dance if I concentrated only on my hands. I looked over at Christine and found her staring at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as if the last half of her dance had been more strenuous.

"Would you like to continue?" I asked bravely.

Christine brought her hand to her forehead lightly and I noticed it was shaking. I stood already alerted to her status before she spoke, pressing her hand to her chest, "I…don't believe I can." She was oddly breathless and swayed dangerously.

"What is it?" I rushed to her side expecting her to faint again and cursed myself for forgetting to give her breakfast. In my concern for her welfare I forgot I was not wearing my gloves and reached for her wrist to check her pulse. She flinched at my cold hands and I pulled them away but not before I felt the rapid speed of her heart. "Do you feel faint again?"

"No," she took a few deep breaths before she could explain further. "I've never heard the music so clearly," she shook her head, "Not just heard it but felt it." Her eyes closed in reverence and my eyebrows both lifted, shifting the mask slightly and I quickly pushed it back into place with annoyance. "After we started again, I felt like I was a conduit for the music…I've never felt so much…I don't know," she finished lamely opening her eyes to gaze at me adoringly. "Did you do that Erik?"

"I highly doubt…" I stopped in the middle of my dismissal and thought about it. Did I not just pour myself into the music? Could she really feel it? Her wide believing eyes tipped the scales for me and, embarrassed, I straightened my vest bashfully. "Perhaps I did, though I assure you it was not intentional. I've not played for an audience in quite some time."

She smiled at me and dropped her gaze, "You are very good."

"Surely the result of many hours spent practicing," and though my words brushed it off, I swelled with hope inside. If she could stand here smiling sweetly and compliment me. then maybe she was not scared of me. But staring at her bowed head I remembered her flinch at my unwanted touch.

"I think I've had enough dancing practice for today. But thank you very much for playing," she glanced up under her lashes and she looked so shy, sweet, coy, enchanting…

"It was my pleasure," I assured her, caught in the golden depths of her light filled eyes. I did not notice her hand moving for mine until she touched me. I tried not to stiffen but it was always my first line of defense. Her fingertips trailed over the back of my bare hand where it hung by my side and then she picked it up, cradling it in her warm dainty hands, gently. I felt like I was watching someone else, that this could not be me, that this was not Christine who gazed at my hand like it was a work of art. I peeled my eyes from her face to make sure my hand was still the same. I almost grimaced at the sight of the white bony thin fingers framed by her perfect appendages. I looked back at her face to see that wonder in her eyes and it confused me.

"Will you play for me…just like that, sometime when I'm not dancing?" her fingers were tickling the palm of my hand in a rhythmic motion and I never realized that it would be physically difficult to think while she touched me.

"Yes, of course, if you like…" I sounded like an idiot but she rewarded me with an ecstatic smile before bending to kiss my knuckles.

"You shouldn't hide such beautiful hands, Maestro," she murmured and I was sure I heard her wrong.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked more than a little bewildered and aroused at the silk of her lips on my hand. She dropped it like it was suddenly hot and she backed away grasping handfuls of her hair.

"Oh, uh…I should be getting dressed," she turned as she kept talking, "It won't take me long. I'll be out shortly," and she retreated to her room and closed the door.

I stood there for a moment feeling so many things buzzing through me. It was almost too much, all the new feelings she arose in me and I could barely believe that they were happening to me. Had my music really touched her so deeply? All I had done was alter some of the melodies, adding more intricacies as I went. What would happen if I played her some of my own music with the same vigor? Would she be able to handle it? And did she say Maestro? Did she know both of it's meanings? Was I teacher or master?

I felt a chill as I recalled the many people in Persia who asked me to hypnotize them before I killed them. The Shah had no idea that I was capable of it and always put my next adversary in the cell across from mine. I'm sure it was to torment both me and my opponent but the cells were blessedly dark and all we had was our voices. Some people would not speak, even when I spoke my line. "Confess to me what you have done to deserve the death I bring?"

The Shah was not a stupid man. He had me ask the opponents if they knew why I was going to kill them and report back to him what they revealed. They usually spilled everything bad they had ever done in their lives, down to the most ridiculous things and ending with a plea to be spared for being so obedient. No one was ever spared. But I did give them a choice. Be aware or be unaware. Some proud men would not hear of it, but many allowed me to cloud their mind with my exceptional voice. I had been very careful to never use my persuasive tone with Christine and she acted so crazily most times that I pushed that chilly thought away.

I looked down at my bare hands wondering what exactly she had said about my hands. I held them out in front of me for a few moments to study them. Beautiful? I hardly think so. Perhaps it was time to test my hearing.


	13. Education

---

Christine

---

I closed my bedroom door and started giggling. It was entirely childish but I had this bubble of happiness in me that needed to come out. I stripped off the wrapper and twirled on my toes to the closet. That music had made me feel so good, so euphoric that I wished he would play like that for me forever. Papa had been able to draw me into his violin music like that and I knew it was a rare talent because people would come to him after he performed and reverently bow to him whispering Maestro in respectful tones. I grew up with a musician, I knew good music. But Erik was indescribable! His mastery of the piano was breathtaking and I could hardly wait to sit and give all my attention to the music instead of having to dance.

I sorted through the dresses quickly wondering if I should wear one. He would think I brought no clothes to stay with him but the lure of the beautiful fabrics swayed my decision. I choose one of the three skirts, a pretty chocolate brown one and closed the closet door. It was odd to think all that clothing was mine. What would Meg say when she saw them? I giggled again. I might have to break it to her gently.

I laughed as I stripped all my clothes to wash before dressing. I washed standing naked in the washroom, I had no clue how to get water to the large tub in one corner and I'd told Erik I would hurry so I just used the basin water with a cloth and then toweled off. Once I was clean I slipped into the outfit I'd chosen. The stays went on first and I yanked on the strings to make sure they were tightly pressed to my ribs. They usually left bruises but I couldn't struggle into a corset by myself.

I don't know why I was bothering with propriety now when Erik had already seen me in my nightclothes twice, but it seemed wrong to purposely not wear them. When I was throwing caution to the wind and following the feeling in my gut I didn't have to worry about propriety. But now I felt bad and quickly said a prayer for my indelicacy around Erik. From now on I was going to behave and dress like a lady and not some little lost girl. He was a musical genius and deserved more respect from me.

I glanced at myself quickly to see the finished product as I stepped into my shoes. The outfit looked good but my hair was a disaster. I sat to brush and braid it quickly wondering if Erik picked out this skirt himself or had someone do it for him. It was high waisted and tight from under the bust to the small swell of my hips where the fabric floated to the ground like an inverted flower. The chocolate brown material had iridescence to it and the cream colored lace trimmed blouse that Papa bought me last Christmas, complimented it beautifully. I threw my pretty pale blue shawl around my shoulders, it was a little thin after years of use but the overall effect looked fabulous.

I almost didn't recognize myself for the second time today. I looked like a lady in this outfit with my hair down the side of my neck to almost my stomach in the thick braid. I pulled a few curls out around my face and took a deep breath as I re-emerged into the living area.

Erik was tending the fire as I came out and he glanced at me, the glance lasting longer than a glance and then he went back to his tending. I walked around the couch noticing he'd already put everything back in its place and sat down. I tried to think of something to say as I fixed my skirts around my knees but if I asked him too many questions would he see me as more of a child than a lady? I also didn't want to bring up anything that might cause him pain. I heard him approaching and twisted my fingers together nervously.

"Would you like to practice your pronunciation?" he asked it but it rang like an order.

"If you don't mind listening?" I wanted to ask what he wanted to do instead of always doing what I want.

"I would not offer if the choice of activity was not to my liking." Of course not.

I rose to get the book feeling like I was only playing dress up in someone else's clothing, which made me mad because the majority of what I was wearing was mine. How did he make me feel so small, when only moments ago he made me feel so marvelous? And how did he do it with so few words and none of them cruel?

I sat on the couch, book in hand, next to Erik who was already waiting with his hands on his knees. I smiled at the sight of his bare hands, encouraged that at least he now trusted me in this one way. I just had to be patient.

I read carefully and clearly, not stuttering once or letting my mind wander once and was proud of myself when I reached the end of the chapter. I glanced at Erik to see if he wanted me to continue or were we done, but he didn't move.

"Should I continue?" I asked wondering what he was thinking staring at his hand covered knees.

"No," he said quietly, "That is enough for today." I waited for him to say something and thought he looked sad today, I was about to ask him if something was wrong when he spoke.

"Would you like to see my laboratory?"

---

Erik

---

"It's nothing grand," I warned her before I opened the concealed door from the kitchen into the lab.

Her face was shining with enthusiasm as I pressed the two stones that released the mechanism. "The crack is a door?"

"Pardon me?" I looked back at her, confused and she laughed, waving her hand excitedly.

"Never mind," she giggled and followed me in trying to look everywhere at once, while I lit the lanterns and candles. I let her wander as I brightened the room, wanting to see what drew her first and just wanting to look at her. She looked very womanly in the clothing she chose and my eyes were drawn to the shimmering fabric that clung to her tiny looking curved torso. Her eyes glowed with golden joy at the series of beakers and pipettes, at measuring spoons and jars of powders, herbs, rocks, gadgets and garbage. She smiled at all of it like it was gold. She was especially interested in all the rocks and picked up an obsidian black pearl rock and turned it over in her hand inquisitively. I told her what is was and after a moment she put it down to pick up a piece of rose quartz, holding it up for me to identify.

She kept picking things up and I kept telling her what was in her hands, sometimes giving more information then I'm sure she required. Finally she turned to me from the middle of the room.

"Where did you learn all these things?" she smiled awestruck.

"I had a decent education when I lived with Nadir and I continue to read a lot. I seem to have an affinity for learning," I felt proud of my brain, it was my only redeeming quality.

"Marvelous," she whispered blissfully, her eyes sparkling.

I was glad she was looking at me to see my quizzical brow arch upwards because I wasn't sure which words would get her to explain herself.

"Teach me," she grinned as she leaned across the work table towards me. I was already her teacher and furrowed my brow at her.

"What do you wish to learn?"

"Everything!" she spun in a circle gleefully, her shawl trailing behind her and I watched in wonder, with a smile wanting to pull on my lips. She was so refreshingly optimistic all the time.

"Perhaps we should start with one thing and then we can move swiftly on to everything," I teased her, wondering when she would initiate physical contact again. She actually stuck her tongue out at me before tossing her shawl onto the table to move into a smaller space where I kept all my gadgets.

"What are these?" she trailed her fingers over the mechanisms with wonder and I swelled with pride that she was so fascinated with my inventions.

"Machines," I moved to her side and picked one up. "They mimic movement." I cleared her shawl from the table and pressed in the button to make the jumble of metal and wires move. It skittered across the table and Christine handed me another one to operate. After a dozen different ones and a dozen different laughs of enjoyment from Christine I began putting them back with a blustery feeling in my chest.

"Unbelievable Erik," she was shaking her head in disbelief. "They must take you abnormally long to make." Her innocent words always seemed to hold a knife to me, the feeling died within me.

"I have an abnormal amount of spare time," I felt myself crawling back into the darkness inside me, where I belonged. Abnormal.

---

Christine

---

He was a genius.

I excitedly wanted him to teach me everything in his head but knew I could never handle it all. Maybe just the rocks and the herbs and powders, those would certainly be interesting. The mechanisms that did everything but talk were incredibly complex and I knew I would never understand how he made them work.

He was letting me wander again and he stood off to the side with his hands tucked behind his back, his serious expression back on his face. He would allow himself to relax some moments but they were fleeting and far between. The tight look of his set expression made me want to shake him. Why didn't he trust me with his real face?

His velvet black vest fit his torso snugly, the vivid blue at his throat making his eyes seem blue. The vest tapered in a perfect vee from his shoulders to his slim hips and heat rose into my cheeks as I realized I was letting my eyes stray to him quite often.

"Would you like me to make a rainbow for you?" he asked suddenly and I gave him a strange look.

"A rainbow? How?" even if he could make rainbows it wouldn't fit in this room. I caught myself looking around the room sizing it for a rainbow and stopped. Did I honestly think he was capable of that? I suppose by this point I figured he probably could make rainbows with everything else he had mastered.

"Using a crystal," he answered like I would know what it meant. I felt the urge to stick my tongue out at him again but suppressed it, so much for acting like a lady.

Erik set to work gathering a few things and blowing out the lights as he went. He brought two lit candles and set them at the table with some wire and a large clear rock.

"Sit," he offered with a nod to the stool. I sat in the dim interior of his laboratory and watched him make a rainbow. I propped my chin on my fist too fascinated to stop myself. He deftly wound wire around the rock and suspended it within a dark glass lantern. He placed one of the candles in the lantern and then blew out the other.

Rainbows glimmered everywhere and I almost fell off the stool. I caught myself and stood to turn a circle in wonder. Little tiny rainbows sparkled in the darkness and it was magic.

"Amazing Erik, you really can make a rainbow," he lit a few candles quickly and the rainbows disappeared.

"It is only science, Christine," his voice had reprimand to it, like I shouldn't give him any credit.

"Science?" I turned a circle to take in everything in this room and spied the bugs lined up in clear jars, illuminated strangely by the few candles. "Do you have those for science?"

I looked at the insect collection with trepidation and shivered holding myself at one particularly nasty looking spider with a long wicked tail. He came up behind me and draped the shawl over my shoulders.

"There are no spiders in my collection," he assured me and I laughed nervously.

"What is that one? It looks like a spider." I pointed to the nasty one.

"It is a Scorpion, which is part of the class Arachnida, so some of the characteristics are similar to spiders," he still hadn't moved from behind me and I was suddenly aware that he was very close to me and it made me warmer than the addition of my shawl. I could almost feel the heat of his body behind me. "Why do you fear spiders?" he purred softly.

I wanted to run away from the question because it was so personal and so terrible that I stood stock still, pressing my lips together, not wanting to speak the answer. He waited patiently for a reply and I realized that if he could reveal his painful past to me then I should be able to do this.

"I have one strong memory of my mother's face," the scorpion watched me, "She was already dead but I didn't know. I was so little...Papa told me not to go into the room but I didn't understand why and went in anyway. I remember a spider landed on her face and crawled over it. When she didn't move I knew something was wrong with her" I shuddered again trying to dispel the memory. I was only four when Mama died and hated that one of my only memories of her face was so terrible. "I thought for a long time that the spider had taken her soul."

"I should not have asked, I am sorry Christine," the weight of his hand hovered over my shoulder, the remorse clear in his voice.

"I've never been fond of spiders after that," I dropped my eyes and wrapped the shawl tighter around my shoulders. Erik's hand touched me lightly on the curve of my shoulder.

"I did not mean to cause you such pain," his voice was strained and I finally turned to press my cheek to his hard chest. He was startled but put both arms around me lightly. He was worried to cause me pain but allowed me to resurrect every horrid memory he had.

"Perhaps we should just ask our questions freely but be prepared to console one another once the answer is given," I said softly into his velvety vest.

"If you wish," he said equally soft.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of being held. Erik's arms encircled me lightly like he was afraid I would break. The thought of how different this hug was made me giggle a little and I inhaled deeply and contentedly, smelling some edible foreign spice and cedar mingled together on his clothing. I was about to ask him if it was an exotic perfume for men when my stomach growled impatiently. I laughed heartily, wondering if Erik had heard it and looked up to find him smiling.

It was the tiniest curve to the corner of his mouth but it filled me with joy to see it. I lifted my hand to touch his cheek but me touching him still made him tense and the precious tiny smile faded to nothing, and past nothing to angry.

"I keep forgetting to feed you," he growled almost to himself as he led me from his room of wonders holding my hand tightly.

---

Erik

---

I fed her supper, conscious the entire time of her presence. She had this light about her, even down in my darkness that shone from her eyes and illuminated her skin. I was constantly looking at her, taking in her radiance in small doses, just little tastes of the sunshine that glowed from her.

It was obvious she trusted me implicitly and it was beginning to chip at my walls. But she made me feel so crazy and I honestly did not need to be anymore crazy then I already was. I pulled out my pocket watch. I really needed to get some work done tonight. I watched her clear the dishes and wondered if she would want to come with me. Could I just leave her alone here? It didn't seem right, locking up the princess in the bad man's castle.

Perhaps it would be a good time for her to go back. These two days with her have been the most difficult days of my life. But I was willing to go through discomfort to be with her. Especially if she would laugh like that for me again, and while I was hugging her no less.

I couldn't let her stay here alone and didn't want to make her go. Who was I kidding? I would just let her decide.

"I must ask you something, Christine." I stood to help her with the dishes. "I have to work tonight and am not sure what you would prefer to do."

"Can I come with you?" she asked right away and I wanted to say yes but had to be sensible.

"I will be there until late into the morning. You may be more comfortable in your room upstairs." Would she sit beside me all night long?

"Well, how finished is the house? Are there walls and floors?" she smiled easily and my lips twitched, wanting to join her.

"I am doing the finishing work so it is practically livable," I finished drying the plates and closed the cupboard.

"Could I come with you if I bring a book and a blanket?" she asked timidly like she was afraid to anger me by being so bothersome. I didn't like to hear her voice so hesitant around me but reminded myself that it would take time for her to come to grips with my past. She should know by now though that I had no ability to say no to her.

I said yes, as I always do and began to get moderately excited. See would be able to see there was more to me than just a cave dwelling killer phantom.

The paddle across the lake was silent but the water lapped soothingly in a familiar rhythm so the silence did not bother me. Christine chewed on her lip which meant she was thinking hard. When I reached the dock I tied the boat securely and turned to find her eyes on me.

"When is your birthday Erik?" her chin was propped adorably on one fist. I felt my face burn and cowardly turned the mask towards her. She had a way of cutting straight to something painful without even knowing it. She made me feel so vulnerable, like she wanted all my faults out in the open. Not to point them out and mock me but to try to see me wholly, except I knew I had too many faults.

"I do not know," I pretended to fix my cuffs.

"What?" her voice was taken aback and I glanced at her quickly. Her pretty little mouth was open, her eyes wide. Her face said Shock! I lifted my bag of tools to the dock and her blanket too, fighting with the urge to smile again. I wondered if every woman was as expressive as Christine or was she the unique one. Mother and the Persian ladies I met never looked as emotional as Christine did.

"When is yours?" I asked as I hopped out. She stood to follow taking my hand as easily as I'd offered. I almost smiled again as my hand held hers tightly.

"November 28th," she answered automatically but waved her hand impatiently, "How can you not know? Have you had amnesia?" she squinted at me curiously and I wanted to smile again. This was ridiculous! Everything she did sent me into a lather.

"I am amnesia free," I answered her easier question and gathered our things. "Shall we continue?"

She followed behind me with three separate staccato words, "But…Then…If…" and she fell silent. Was I being rude by evading her question? Shouldn't she know my mother hated me? Would have probably killed me if it wasn't a sin. I stopped abruptly and Christine almost ran into me. I turned half way around so she saw only my bare cheek. Fitting, because everything with her felt like exposure to the elements.

I looked at the ground to gather the words because I would never be able to speak if I looked in her eyes.

"My birth was not a joyous occasion and I suppose that is why my mother chose not to celebrate it. By the time I realized I had missed a few things growing up," like family history, birthdays, surnames, that sort of thing, "It was too late to go back to find them out." It truly was pathetic if I let myself think about it, a grown man with no surname and no birth date. When I die my grave will say only 'Erik Died'. If I have a grave. I'll probably die alone and just be left to rot until my body matches my face.

"I'm sorry, Erik, I never imagined…I didn't mean to pry," Christine said quietly, her head bowing in apology.

I considered her for a moment and recalled her words in the laboratory. "I thought we were to ask freely and console later?" I asked, knowing full well that my words may maneuver her into my arms again. Her eyes lifted with some strange emotion and she reached for me. Disgusted that I had just manipulated her so completely I turned and continued on with a random mumble about the time. I was a scoundrel. First I make her reach for me and then I reject it. Of course part of me didn't want to waste a hug with other things in my hands and putting them all down just seemed too eager.

"What will you be working on?" she asked from behind me and I was glad she had broken the silence.

"The oven in the kitchen and the fireplace in one bedroom. I should finish both tonight," if I wasn't excessively distracted by a sleep flushed Christine.

We came out into the air and I saw a carriage waiting at the mouth of the alley. I grabbed Christine by the hand and spun her around.

"This way," I said sharply and led her behind the opera house to one of the little used entrances.

Damn! Damn! Damn! Nadir was waiting for me either at the site or right there in that carriage. It wasn't unusual for him to come with me every couple weeks to go over some points but why would he pick tonight? Was the house finished then? Had he come previously and noticed my lack of work ethic? Damn!

I hurried her along taking large steps as my mind raced. Once she was inside again I turned to explain quickly.

"I'm afraid I had to change our plans."

She looked confused as she looked around her, "Where are we?"

"Behind the scenery storage room. This passageway is rarely used but leads to the dormitory hall."

Her eyes finished their perusal of her surroundings and came to mine sadly, "I'm not coming with you, am I?"

"No," I gestured for her to follow, warmed to see such sadness and then angered that I would be happy to see her sad. "The house is so near completion that the other men will be there finishing up. I could not bring you into that situation. I should have thought of it earlier."

She followed silently and then whispered, "When will I see you again?"

"Tomorrow night, usual time, on the roof," I answered immediately but Christine apparently didn't believe me. She grabbed at my arm and caught some of the cloak and my sleeve in her tight fingers.

"Do you promise me?" she whispered and I assured her I would see her tomorrow, my mind wandering to Nadir's carriage waiting for me. We reached the end of the passage and the hall that led to the dormitory was just ahead. She took her blanket and book and we stood back to say our parting, though neither one of us could find words. I absurdly wanted to kiss her good bye like she was mine to do that sort of thing with. Instead I gave her a brief apology.

"I'm sorry your personal things are still down below," due to my impromptu change of plans.

"Have I angered you, Erik?" she looked like she was about to cry and I needed to get out of here and figure out what was going on with Nadir and the house and get my work done but her face…

"Why would you think that?" I asked gently putting down my tools and standing to face her, letting her see the mere thought was impossible.

"You...I..." she searched my face and then threw down the blanket to toss her arms around me. I hugged her back with a tight feeling in my chest and we both let go at the same time. Compared to my other hugs, this one was short but the feeling burned down my body as she stepped away and all contact was lost.

"Good night Erik," she breathed with a tremble and then turned away.

"Bon nuit, ma chardonnerette" I breathed as she hurried down the hall.

Now to deal with Nadir. That had been very close. It was a good thing Nadir was in the habit of giving me warning of his company, hence the carriage waiting for me. I slipped into the empty carriage glad he was not in it. It would give me time to order my thoughts before I had to face him.

I didn't have to wait very long. He found me in the kitchen as I prepared the mortar.

"Seeing all the work come to fruition is grand. Do you think you will finish tonight?" he laid his list on the counter.

"Things look good so far, baring any major issues upstairs," I picked up the list to read it over. It was a checklist that we had compiled a month ago of all the things that needed to get done. The only two things left unmarked were the two I was working on. Embarrassed, I scanned the list again.

"Everything is done?" I was a little annoyed at myself for allowing Christine to take over my life so completely.

"You will give it the final approval of course but Bernard says it's all done." He paused for a moment and his eyes questioned me. "Could you walk through now so I can get to bed, the hours you keep are truly deplorable, Erik."

I started all the final checks and Nadir followed me from room to room, with a paper and ink in case something needed to be fixed. He would pass the message to Bernard and he would come tomorrow to fix it. I really had a well oiled business and should take more care to keep it that way.

"I'm surprised you are not finished, it's not like you to take so long," he piped up as we neared the end.

"I've been busy," I feigned interest in a part of a difficult corner. The corner was fine but Nadir wouldn't know and it gave me a moment to think.

"With what?" he asked as if to only fill the silence and I came up with a good lie.

"Music," I felt bad for hiding Christine from Nadir but he wouldn't understand how she needed me. He couldn't understand. I barely understood it.

"You and your music," he smiled absently and then yawned hugely, covering his mouth, "Pardon me." I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we moved through the last room. He looked tired tonight and he seemed to move even slower than usual, pausing to look out one of the windows as I finished my inspection.

"I believe the team is improving," he said jubilantly as I saw him to his carriage. The house was done, no fixes needed to be made. I only had to complete my fireplace and clean that room and finish the tile over the oven and another creation was complete.

---

Christine

---

Once I was back in my small room I remembered why I was staying with Erik. Raoul! He said he would come later. Was tonight the night? Fear crawled down my spine and I fled down the hall to Meg's room.

I knocked timidly and Meg called from inside, "Come in!"

I quickly entered closing the door behind me and sighed in relief. "Hello," I smiled. I did like Meg a lot. She was so different from me, so strong and beautiful, loud and confident.

"Christine! Where have you been?" Meg pulled me down to sit beside her on the bed and I noticed Julie pawing through her closet.

"I told you I was visiting a friend," I reminded her.

"A male friend?" Julie piped up from the depths of the closet and I blushed a little. Meg did not miss it and she tittered beside me.

"Oh Christine, I didn't know! What's his name? Is he rich? Don't waste yourself on a poor man. Is he a patron?" her questions flew at me rapid fire and before I could answer any Julie joined in, "Is he good in bed?"

I turned a pretty shade of crimson thinking of his bed and both girls squealed at the sight. "I've only kissed him," I hurried to explain but realized, "Well, he kissed me." I bit my lip as they calmed down.

"Did it make your toes curl?" Julie asked bright eyed. My lips curled into a smile remembering how his kiss felt.

"Yes," I said quietly wondering if I should ask them some questions about relationships. I respected Erik to the ends of the earth and back for his music mastery and incredible intelligence and was enormously grateful for all he'd done for me but didn't know how to interpret his behavior towards me.

I'd thought he was angry after my apology for prying about his birthday. I did want us to be candid with one another but felt bad for hurting him with my queries. And then he didn't let me console him and I'd felt so terrible. I thought he was done with me and trying to get rid of me finally but I had misunderstood his actions. He'd stood there before me and his face had softened into the man that played the piano, the man that bragged in his laboratory, the man who had held me in his arms and stolen one blissful kiss.

Meg touched my hand to get my attention. "I'm glad you found a man that you like."

"Well, I don't really know how he feels about me," I said honestly. "The kiss was sort of an accident…"

Julie laughed loudly, "Accidental kiss…mmhhpht," she wiped at her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Meg was more serious and level headed, which was another reason I liked her.

"I don't think he meant to kiss me. We are really just friends," it was sad to say it out loud but since that first night Erik had not made one inappropriate gesture towards me and I was the one initiating our physical contact.

"Men don't know what they want," Meg waved her hand in a flippant manner, "You make him want you."

"How do I do that?"

"Prance around in just your bedclothes," Julie offered and I burned red hot. Already did that. "Or give him a private dance," she rolled her hips rhythmically and Meg threw a pillow at her. I already did that too! I was as naughty as Julie!

"Don't listen to her Christine, she only knows how to get sex from a man," Meg stuck her tongue out at Julie and Julie made a face and sat down to comb her hair mumbling about helping as I burned at my wicked behavior. Is that what Erik thought I was doing?

Meg took my hand and squeezed it. "Just be yourself. He would have to be crazy to not fall in love with you." And there was a good chance he was crazy.

"Thank you," I half smiled, feeling ill.

"What's his name anyway?" Meg got up to tidy her closet back up. Would she know if I told her?

"Erik," I watched her back but she didn't make any connection. Maybe she didn't know his name?

"Is he tall and handsome?" Julie asked dreamily from the powder table.

"He's tall and," I paused, "Very unique looking." Meg glanced at me with a confused expression on her face and I continued with wide eyes. "I really like his voice." The understatement of my life but her eyes were wide now as she grabbed me off the bed.

"Jules, we'll be right back I want to try on that cloak Christine got," and she pulled me out the door with Julie's 'okay' still in the air.

We quick stepped down the hall and she whispered questions at me.

"How did you meet him? Did he really kiss you? Is his voice as divine as I remember? How long have you known him? Where did he take you?"

I tried to answer the questions that were easy and ignore the ones that would reveal too much about Erik. We reached my room and she went for my closet. True to her word she tried on the cloak as I asked her my questions.

"How did you meet him?"

"I thought I heard someone singing on the roof and sort of ran into him. But I already knew he existed," she looked at the door and sidled closer to me, lowering her voice, "Maman works for him."

"What? Why did you tell me he wasn't real then?" I was a little miffed that the only girl to be my friend was keeping things from me. Of course I was keeping pretty big things from her, so I took a breath to calm myself.

"I was sworn to secrecy," she hung the cloak back up and knelt in front of me. "Please Christine, I wanted to tell you but Maman was scared he would get mad if we told someone about him." I fully remembered when he got mad at me and shivered at the memory.

"So what does your mother do for him?" I was curious.

"He gets strange parcels and mail from a man named Bernard and Maman leaves them in Box 5 for him," she bounced excitedly, "So what is he like?"

I hesitated now, because I knew Erik didn't want to be fully revealed. But I wasn't breaking my promise to keep him a secret if I was talking to someone who already knew he existed. "He is very proper and polite and very intelligent."

"Have you seen…" she didn't continue and I knew what she wanted to know, but couldn't answer and betray Erik in that manner.

I shrugged and stood up, "I wish I knew more about men," I said honestly. "I like him a lot but I can't tell if he sees me as more than a friend."

"You don't accidentally kiss your friend," Meg said practically but I didn't feel very positive.

I opened the drawer that held his notes to me and stared down at his handwriting missing him already.

"A man came looking for you yesterday," Meg whispered and I almost swallowed my tongue. "His name is Raoul De Changy, the same toad that grabbed me at the Mask."

I nodded and tried to make my voice work. "He wants to send me back to Sweden." I knew I couldn't stay in this room tonight. "I'll tell you about it if I can come stay in your room tonight?" I was afraid to be alone and Meg agreed. Julie stayed too and I told them the little I knew of Raoul De Changy. They talked about men at length and I learned quite a few things that night that I did not know happened in a marital bed. That night I prayed for my wanton behavior and promised to never be so thoughtless again.


	14. Broken

**Author's note: Please take note that there is a new POV is this chapter.**

**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews.**

**Enjoy! **

Erik

---

I finished the work and made my way home with a sense of accomplishment. All field work was done for now, all that was left was a quick visit to the new site. That aside, I would be spending more time at home at night and would be able to concentrate on Christine.

If she wanted to continue to stay with me, I could show her the passages up to the opera house so she could still attend her dance practices. I could walk her there and back daily, seeing to her safety and my sanity by letting her practice dancing anywhere but in my living room again.

The more I thought about it the more I liked it. I would ask her to stay with me so I never would worry for her safety and we could get to know one another better.

I couldn't believe how positive I felt as I prepared my sleep tea. The only thing I would have to figure out was my sleep pattern. I would have to think on that. For today, I had plenty of time to sleep before I had to meet her on the roof. I downed the foul concoction and slid into bed gratefully.

---

Raoul

---

Women.

I took a long swallow from my flask as I leaned against the wall, waiting for my companion.

As a young man of twenty two years I didn't have a vast knowledge of women. I suppose my wealthy somewhat sheltered upbringing kept me from understanding the delicate complicating creatures we call women. I've asked the young woman whose bed I frequent why she's a dancer and she says she loves the stage but to me it seems wrong. Why would a girl subject herself to that kind of scrutiny? You would never see a man out there parading his half covered body around like a sweet meat. It further confused me to know that Christine was one of those girls.

Christine. The name haunted my thoughts daily and I took another long drink as it floated through my mind.

I can remember the first time I saw Christine like it was yesterday. Phillip and I were in the library completing our lessons for the day. Actually, we were tossing a ball back and forth and one stray toss had brought me to the large window that overlooked our back gardens. As I stooped to pick up the ball I noticed a young girl standing by some flowers, smelling them with reverence. She was commonly dressed but had thick curly hair and when she turned to touch an opening bloom I was struck by her beautiful features and the vacant expression in her eyes.

"Phillip," I called him over breathlessly, "There is a fairy in our yard."

He, being older and less impressionable, came to investigate and then pushed me playfully, "You are the fairy, stupid, that's Christine Daae. Father is talking with…" the rest of Phillip's words faded because the name resonated in my head like a bell. The most beautiful name I've ever heard, Christine. He tried to get my attention but my eyes were riveted to the girl. At the tender age of twelve I fell in love with the beautiful fairy that was smelling the flowers in our garden.

I never met her that day or even spoke to her but her precious innocent face and wildly curling hair haunted my dreams for years and as a boy I never found an equal to the sheer radiance of that one glimpse of my fairy amongst the flowers.

As I came into manhood I joined Father as a patron to the Opera Garnier and learned many things about young ladies. Especially young dancers. I was fully captured by their silly laughter and shining eyes and their gracefully bared arms and legs. I wanted to hold every one of them and could not keep myself from their arms and eventually, from their beds. They taunted me with their beauty, grace and coy smiles but Father was none too pleased.

"Dancers are no better than whores. I'll find you a proper girl." So our arguments began. Father was determined to find me a proper bride and I was determined to find my own, thank you. It didn't help at all when Phillip married an angel named Merilee who was the epitome of feminine grace and perfection. The only perfection I had ever witnessed had occurred when I was twelve and I had never seen my fairy again.

Until this summer. I tipped the flask to my lips as my more recent memories on the fairy Christine burned their way through my mind.

Father called me into his study where he usually met with clients and customers. He'd recently begun teaching me the workings of his business and I came into the room totally unprepared to see the vision before me. Her head was bowed but I could see enough of her face to know it was her. My dream. Her father was beside her but I am ashamed to say I could not describe what he looked like. My heart pounded as I stared at this vision of a woman my fairy child had become. I have no idea what my father and hers spoke of. Especially after we were introduced and her lovely eyes rose sweetly and she smiled angelically at me, "A pleasure to meet you," the vision spoke and my ears rang with perfection.

As soon as they left I told father I had found my future wife. He disagreed with me heartily and would not relent, even when I found out Monsieur Daae had brought her to Paris to find a husband for her, Father was still adamant. My fairy needed a husband and I wanted to comply.

"She is perfect," I childishly screamed more than once at my father, wanting her with a passion I could barely comprehended. Father was unyielding, saying she was not right for me and he had someone else in mind but then Christine's father died.

She came trembling to our house babbling incoherently and crying mournfully about her father. I wanted to take her in my arms and soothe her pain but Father kept her away from me and after the funeral, he sent her home. I thought about travelling to Sweden to find her but the only money I possessed was father's money and he told me quite firmly to forget her.

I tried to. I took comfort from one of the pretty dancers and father kept planning his wedding schemes for me. A month passed peacefully and then the Masquerade.

Mother and Father could not attend so I went alone. When they announced the new dancer I gaped as my fairy floated across the stage. Then anger had coursed through me. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be home! She was too perfect and precious to have all these men ogling her! But every time I came to save her from this depravity she was not in her room. I was beginning to think that I had imagined her name being called and was slowing going crazy.

"Monsieur Raoul," the pretty dancer behind me called. I turned with a small smile for the young woman that gave me the comfort of her body. "I do not have much time," she began to pull me toward the washing room, "The performance starts in an hour."

"More than enough time, Julie," I grinned at her.

---

Christine

---

I attended practice the next morning with Julie and Meg. Mme Giry said it was nice to see me and asked how many more lessons I thought I should miss before I would be ready for a part. I bowed my head and apologized and she went on with the practice.

I ate lunch with Meg and went to the roof with her to get some air. That night everyone was getting ready for the performance and I didn't know what to do with myself until it was time to meet Erik. I decided to have a bath and made my way to the washing room in my undergarments and a wrapper borrowed from Meg. Everyone else was busy getting dressed and doing make-up so I figured I'd have the room to myself.

I unlocked the door and there was giggling and scuffling happening on the other side of a change wall.

"Hello?" I called out. There was some muffled talk and Julie poked her head around the corner.

"Bonjour Christine. Could you come back in a little while? Maybe ten minutes?" Her hair was undone and disheveled and her shoulder and arm naked. I'm sure I would have thought of it but a man's voice came from the shelter.

"Ten minutes! Stupid chit!" and she was yanked back with a whoop and Raoul strode around the corner, his pants undone and his shirt half out of his pants. I looked down blushing hot. Were they being intimate?

"Christine? It's so marvelous to see you."

"What are you doing in our washroom?" I asked quietly edging back from him.

"Engaging in bad behavior," he laughed and reached out to grab me. He yanked me against him and I stumbled forward, surprised, putting my hands up defensively on his chest. He moaned and held me hard as he rolled his hips against me. I tried to pull away because I could feel his 'manhood', I learned from Meg and Julie, hard as a ballet bar pressing into my stomach. It made me feel too many things to separate them all, horrified, scared, humiliated, curious….too many things.

"You feel so good," he whispered in my ear and then shook me. "How many men have had you?" he was instantly angry and I tried to push him away.

"Let me go!" I said with more conviction then I felt.

"Oh no Christine," he slid his hands down to my bottom, his anger gone, "I never want to let you go." He nuzzled my neck with a shuddering breath and Julie came from around the wall pulling on her wrapper. She looked hurt and confused and then I met her eyes and conveyed my frantic fear to her. She ran from the washroom and I tried to delay what ever Raoul had planned for me.

"Did you know your father wanted us to be married? Did the thought excite you my love?" I trembled with shock at his words.

"You lie!" I whispered, disgusted.

He pulled back to look at me and then smiled like I was a child, "There's no need to be scared my sweet little fairy, I love you so very much," and then he kissed me. His lips were rough and his tongue forced itself into my mouth. I twisted to get his mouth off of mine and he grabbed my bun to get better leverage as his mouth sought mine once more. I wanted to scream or bite him but alcohol fumes filled my nose as his tongue filled my mouth and I coughed into his mouth. He let go and my wobbly knees dropped me to the ground while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was gross," he admonished me and I tried to back away from him on my knees.

"I'll tell your father," I threatened breathily and he laughed.

"Father knows that dancers are just whores to be had," he scowled suddenly. "That's why I'm surprised you would choose this, Christine. You seemed so sweet and quiet…I can't believe you're no better than Julie." He was right of course but that didn't mean I was going to let him have his way with me. I huddled on the ground and he came to kneel in front of me.

"I would have married you," he said quietly, taking me by the shoulders to shake me sharply, "But I can't now!" His eyes travelled down to my chest and I'm not sure what he could see because I was too afraid to look away from his feverishly bright blue eyes. "I don't care how many men have had you," he whispered, "I need you. I need this."

He stood quickly and began wrestling with his clothing while I stared at his boots. He was going to assault me. I trembled with fear and knew I had to do something, run away or yell or scream but I was frozen. Something soft and musky smelling grazed my cheek and I closed my eyes, my chin quivering.

"Put it in your mouth," his voice had lowered to a purr and I heard Meg yelling my name from not far away. Sweet rescue come save me, tears came to my eyes but I knew he would come back for me. His hand pulled on my hair, pulling me towards his hips and his man parts brushed across my face.

Meg and some other girls poured into the room in varying degrees of undress shouting at Raoul in French and he let me go but I knew he would never leave me alone unless I did something. My eyes fastened on the hilt of a knife protruding from his boot. I had to do something. I grabbed his knife, springing up to my feet, tearing my wrapper and pressing the blade to his side. He jumped back with a yelp.

"Stay away from me," I sobbed as I backed away. Red blossomed on his white shirt and I held the knife hard in my hand, terrified of what I'd just done. The girls were forming a wall between us yelling at Raoul while he lifted his shirt to see how badly I'd cut him. Meg turned and asked if I was okay but I couldn't stand to be in this room one more second and turned on my heel and ran.

I don't know where I meant to go but I ran. As hard and as fast as I could and when I reached the stairs I climbed. When I burst out onto the roof I fell to the cold stone and threw up. The knife had blood on it and I wanted to throw it away from me but kept it in case Raoul came after me again. I crawled around the corner from the door and huddled into a ball, my knees drawn up to my chest. My breath gasped in and out, little white clouds around my face, and I began to cry.

Cold tears streaked down my face. The terrible things he said! Did Papa honestly think to marry me off to him? Did I kill him? There was a lot of blood on his shirt. It was hard to get a full breath as my sobs wracked my body and I began to shiver in the cold night.

"Erik," I cried out, as if speaking his name could make him materialize. He was the only real person in my life. The only one who could stop the whirl of my life, spinning out of control. When I was with him, everything was fine. I held my breath because I seemed to be making a lot of noise. How could I hide from Raoul if I was making enough noise to drown out an elephant, but it was useless. My breath was hitched and gasping, I could smell blood and vomit and I felt sick, sick from the taste of him in my mouth, sick from his upsetting words, sick of people. More than anything, I longed for when it was just me and Papa. I was safe, loved, sheltered and cared for. Now I felt naked and alone, so, so alone in this cold unreal place. I buried my face in my knees and starting crying my heart out.

---

Erik

---

My spirits were high as I climbed to the roof. I was hours early yet but couldn't stay a moment more down below. I'd woken with a vigor that I hadn't felt in…well….ever.

The world seemed a brighter place knowing Christine was in it and as I made it to the last series of stairs I increased my speed, taking the stairs two at a time, wondering if she would come early, just as eager to see me as I was to see her.

I few steps from my private entrance I heard frantic sobbing and hesitated. The sound of it rattled in my head for a moment and I exploded out into the open, knowing it was her.

She sprang up from the ground with a startled cry, her face wet, her eyes wild, a bloody knife in her hand. I couldn't even speak, looking at her disheveled fierce appearance. Then her face collapsed and her arms dropped, the knife pinging off the stone loudly.

"Erik," she sobbed, her breath a white cloud in the cold air and her eyes rolled back in her head. I leapt forward as her body crumpled to the ground and caught her in my arms., my heart galloping in my chest. Was her attacker up here? I darted my eyes around the roof as I whisked off my cloak but saw no one. What was she doing up here in just her wrapper? I quickly wrapped my cloak around her limp cold body and stood with her in my arms.

Only one thing for me to do.

I took her as swiftly as I could back to my underground home.

---

Christine

---

I could smell wood and some spice that was unfamiliar. And vomit. I jerked my head with a gasp and only noticed the arms under my knees and shoulders when they held me tighter against a hard chest. We were moving quickly.

"Ma petite fleur," I didn't even hear the rest, the wash of relief was so overwhelming. Only one man had a voice like that. Erik had me. I was safe.

I buried my face back into his chest, breathing the cedar spice of his clothing. Tears started to collect and I couldn't help the sobs of relief and of trial from spilling from my mouth.


	15. Mending

---

Erik

---

I carried her down the stairs and along the path on my side of the lake, her quiet sobbing echoing around us and torturing me. My precious angel. What has been done to you? I held her hard against me thinking of all the ways she could have ended up on the roof barely clothed with a bloodied knife. Whose blood? I didn't notice her bleeding and cursed myself for not checking but we were almost to my cave. The memory of my blissful snooze and recent vigor soured inside me to the point that I thought I might be physically sick and it didn't help that Christine had that sickly sweet smell to her. I managed the door and her at the same time by shifting her weight and grabbing a handful of my cloak, holding her sling-like for a moment as I moved the stone. This second time was much easier than the first time I attempted it.

Once inside I brought her to the fire and sat her in my chair. She curled into herself, bringing her feet up and not looking at me but only at the dying fire. Not knowing what to say, if anything, I busied myself building up the fire, setting water to boil and fetching her a blanket from her room.

I came out and she was still staring at the fire, tears on her lashes, her face blank. One of her hands where it gripped my cloak was stained with blood and I don't think she even noticed. Her hair was pulled back in a bun but coming down crazily as if someone had tugged on it. I'd noticed the shoulder of her wrapper was torn and she was shaking quite badly.

I put some soothing tea on to brew and fetched some warm water in a basin and a cloth and towel. I stood behind her, watching her unseeing glazed look and I wanted to do murder. Fury roared up within me and I methodically planned every terrible thing I would do to the person who had done this. Never before had I actually WANTED to kill someone but I would make an exception for this person.

Until I realized that I had done this. Guilt sprang forth. If I had just brought her with me last night then this would not have happened. If I had acted like a man instead of a frightened boy, if I just had the courage to introduce her Nadir, if I had just brought her with me…

I always hated it when I started sniveling and anger filed in and squashed the feeling. What's done is done. Move on. I stripped off my jacket and gloves and began violently rolling up my sleeves. Anger I understood, anger I could deal with. Anger boiled inside of me as I walked to her side and put down the basin of water.

"Christine," I said quietly but forcefully, not quite touching her shoulder and she turned her tear stained face up to me, her eyes large and forlorn, glassy and transparent. My anger died along with a part of my heart at the vacant look in those eyes. Where was her light? Where was my sunshine? Her mouth opened to speak, her lips trembling and I touched her mouth gently.

"Shhh," I stopped her from speaking and knelt in front of her, perilously close to tears myself. "Just tell me, are you injured?" I couldn't seem to stop myself from touching her, her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear, small little reassurances that she was whole.

She shook her head silently, the fire behind me flickering in her dead eyes. The sight of them tore me apart on the inside. My angel, my precious beautiful laughing angel…

"May I?" I reached my hands out for the cloak, my voice thick and she started to unwrap it from her body. I folded it beside me and reached for the cloth putting it in the warm water to clean her hands and face. I wanted to care for her, hold her gently in my arms, rock her to sleep and cure her of this pain.

Why could I not suffer instead? I would take her place! Do not break this angel! Let me suffer for her!

Or if not…the evil darkness in my head whispered…Let me have vengeance!

---

Christine

---

I watched Erik wring out the cloth for me and wanted to say something, wanted to tell him what happened but every time I opened my mouth tears welled in my eyes. What would he think if I told him Raoul had kissed me and…? My face flushed remembering. I felt dirty and took the wet cloth Erik offered to wipe my face off.

The memory was burned into my skin where his manhood had brushed it and I scrubbed it more then was necessary before burying my face in the wet cloth. I had to be stronger than this.

But I didn't want to be strong, I wanted to curl up in Erik's lap and weep. I wanted him to hold me and whisper that everything would be okay. I wanted Papa back.

Erik gently removed the cloth from my face and began to clean my right hand. I looked where he was looking and saw the dried blood on my hand.

"Oh my Lord, what have I done?" I covered my mouth with my other hand but smelled vomit. I jerked my hand down, my face crumpling in anguish and Erik took both my hands in his tightly, speaking so rapidly I couldn't follow what he was saying. His words, though, had weight to them and I calmed immediately just at the sound of his voice. I closed my eyes, tears leaking down my face and concentrated on breathing while Erik finished cleaning my hands.

His hands left me and I heard him wetting and wringing out the cloth again. My head felt spiny and light, like I would float away from this place, float up to Papa so we could be together and I would never be afraid again. I waited for it, sitting perfectly still, tears slipping down my cheeks but it didn't happen.

Erik touched me and clarity filled my mind. I realized I couldn't float away to heaven when I still had an anchor to earth. I opened my eyes to look at him. My guardian, my teacher and my friend, when he was with me I didn't miss Papa. When he was with me everything was perfect. I wanted to see his face right this moment but would never ask again and so I let my eyes travel over him. His defined jaw and smooth neck, to his rounded shoulders and long arms, his graceful pale hands…

He looked up, his grey eyes, beautifully lined by his dark lashes, his face worried behind the mask. He saw the tears on my face and rose up higher on his knees to wipe them from my face.

"Ne pleur pas, ma chardonnerette, tu craque mon coeur." He gently wiped my cheeks his touch like butterflies on my face. I couldn't stop looking into his eyes, like I gained strength just by looking at him, as if my eyes could feast on him and repair my broken heart. I desperately searched his face and eyes looking for a sign that he felt the anchoring connection between us. He started to sing softly, his magical voice soothing me and I felt like he was trying to sing me to sleep. The song sounded like a lullaby and I stared at him wanting his sweet music to lift me away from this place and carry me home.

He took the slippers from my feet and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and when he rose before me, he looked so tall and strong, so powerfully masculine that I knew he would never let anything happen to me. He touched my hair softly as he walked behind me and then he began to untangle the snarl of my hair with his deft fingers.

Part of me was embarrassed that he had to care for me like I was a child but it didn't register as bad tonight. I just wanted him to keep caring for me like I was all that mattered to him.

I watched the flicker of the fire as he pulled the pins from my hair. He dropped them to the side table where they pinged like rain on a window pane, perfectly timed to mingle with his strange sweet song. When my hair was all down he left me with a gentle touch on the shoulder. I don't even think I blinked while he was away in the kitchen. He had tea in his hand and he wrapped my hands around the cup squeezing them briefly as he stared into my eyes.

"This will help you relax," he breathed, his voice like a dream, his face soft beside the white mask. I watched him poke and tend the crackling fire and felt myself begin to relax. Being here in his home with him felt so domestically right that I leaned into the plush wing of the chair and sipped my tea. It was hot, fragrant and soothing as it cleansed my mouth of foul memories.

I sat and drank the tea, warm by the fire as Erik puttered around me, cleaning up, putting things away, his eyes always coming back to me as mine always looked for him. My eyelids began to feel heavy and I slouched into the chair as they closed. My limbs felt heavy, as if pushed beyond their abilities, my head heavy for probably the same reason. The cup was lifted from my hands and I struggled to open my heavy eyelids.

"Erik," I whispered as he lifted me in his arms.

"Hush sweetheart, I can carry you to your bed," and though my heart warmed at his endearment I didn't want to be that far from my anchor.

"No," I gripped his shirt in my hands and pressed my face into his neck, "I need to be near you."

He was standing in his living room with me in his arms like I didn't weigh a thing as he argued with me. "You are exhausted, my dearest, I will be right out…" panic filled me.

"No! I can't be alone," part of my brain knew how silly and childish I was being but the other part, the panicked part, had control. "I just…I can't…if I…" my breath hitched and Erik moved to lay me on the couch kneeling beside me.

"Shh, shh, you can stay here, it's okay," he pushed the hair from my forehead and as my panic receded, the exhaustion roared back in. "I'll be right here," I heard him say before I succumbed to the darkness.

---

Erik

---

I prowled about restlessly after she fell asleep, pacing the living area my eyes constantly darting to her like she would disappear if I couldn't see her. I hadn't meant to knock her out. How was I to know she would be so susceptible to chamomile? It didn't work at all for me.

I wanted to know what had happened to her but knew she had to recover from the shock and I also wasn't sure if I would fly off to kill the man who had done this once I was told. It had to be a man. None of the other dancers would have attacked her. I kept thinking of that bloody knife. How badly did she cut him?

I made sure she was sound asleep and then took the knife she had dropped from my jacket. It was finely made with jewels embedded in the hilt. So a rich man then…

Blood only stained one side so she didn't stab him. He probably still lived unless she cut his throat, which I highly doubt. I cleaned the knife carefully and put it away in my bedroom and came back out to keep watch.

I wanted to sew her up where she'd fallen apart like a damn doll. She was so fragile that I thought she might shatter, so light that I thought she might float away. The way she clung to me made my heart ache, that she was reduced to clinging to someone like me. But her eyes had followed me everywhere, as if I was her point of reference now, her only reality. It made me feel like she could learn to love me if given enough time but it was not healthy to think that way. She belonged in the light and was destined for greatness upon my stage, I could never join her in the limelight.

I stood over her for a long while just staring at her peaceful face thinking of her empty eyes with a guilty pain in my gut. I finally settled myself enough that I could sit in my chair reading, her steady breathing a balm for my frazzled nerves. I had her for now. I would take care of her.

---

Christine

---

I could hear a fire and pages turning in a book and the familiarity of the sound brought a strong memory of Papa. I knew it was only a memory though, and opened my sore dry eyes. Erik sat by the fire reading, his ear the only part of his face that I could see. The rest was covered by his mask.

I stared at him for awhile, too drained to move. I liked the way he was sort of hunched in the chair, graceful but sort of sprawling, one leg thrust out in front of him, his eyes intent on the book. He seemed to take up a lot of room in my mind and I liked how he took up that space. It didn't leave room for other things and I was very grateful for that. I sat up pushing the blanket off so I could go and put my arms around him and have him hold me. He saw me move and stood himself, putting down the book.

"Darling," he spoke softly, his voice like melted butter and I wanted to be his darling. I wanted everything that went along with that endearment but I remembered everything from my previous naughty behavior to Raoul and stopped to hug myself tightly as he reached me. I should apologize for my behavior first. His hand reached to touch my face and I closed my eyes in anticipation of that touch.

"How do you feel?" he asked carefully, not touching me.

"Like someone beat me with a stick," Erik made a strangled noise and my eyes flew open. "That's not what happened," I stepped forward and put my hand on his chest to assure him and he looked down at my hand and then back up at me.

"Do you want to tell me?" his voice wary and I couldn't meet his gaze. I looked down at my feet pulling some hair over my shoulder, ridiculously embarrassed. He had a right to know but the thought of saying the words to him made my cheeks burn. And what would he do when he did know? Would he call out Raoul? Would he ever touch me again knowing I was just a whore? I was also standing in just a wrapper again, barely clothed in front of him! Did he even notice or was he really the perfect gentleman and chose not to notice?

"I fear I must tell you," I managed to say as I stared at my bare toes that poked out from Meg's wrapper. His feet were wrapped in shiny black shoes glowing from the cast of the fire. I felt like a child next to him, barefoot in homespun while he dressed in diamonds and tails. I methodically combed my fingers through my hair, one hand after another trying to find the words until tears filled my eyes. I tilted my head back to keep the tears from falling and looked right into Erik's hard expression.

He looked so angry that I thought he would yell at me and I bowed my head to hide from his stormy eyes.

"Come sit down before you faint," he was angry. I could hear it in his voice and I wanted to cling to him until everything just went away. I tried to tell myself he was only angry at finding me in such a state. I couldn't even take care of myself for one day.

"Raoul came," I started with that and took a few deep breaths. "He was…with one of the girls…in our washroom. I…he…I didn't think to be frightened until he grabbed me," I remembered the swarm of emotions when he pressed himself to me and felt my cheeks heat. "He was drinking and he touched me…" I could not go on. Erik would be appalled. I was appalled. I already behave like a wanton dancer in front of him and now Raoul has sullied me with his stinky manhood and I had attacked him, cut him, and I would never be the same naive girl. I covered my face to rub the feeling of him off my face but it was burned there, like a branding of my sins.

---

Erik

---

She was curled into herself, her shoulders hunched over, covering her face like she could hide from what happened. I wished, for her sake, that it was that easy.

Raoul De Changy. So the young vicomte was her attacker? A family friend. I wanted to strangle him, squeeze the life from his body, watch as his eyes died like my angel's had. Surely more happened then just touching to cause her reaction to be like this? I did not think she had been raped. She was not so strong that she would pick herself up after something like that. I gave her time to recover herself and saw the tear in her wrapper where the smallest peek of the smooth curve of her shoulder was revealed. I tried not to look again but failed miserably. Her skin looked so soft and luminous and my fists curled at my sides.

Concentrate Erik!

"Did he touch you inappropriately?" I asked softly trying to soothe her with my voice. She nodded silently not removing her hands. "Christine?" I called her name so, so softly, my chest hurting with an indescribable feeling. I wanted to murder Raoul. I could practically feel his neck under my hands but looking at my angel like this made the anger disappear. All I could think of was her. My anger washed away and I couldn't remember if it had ever happened so easily before.

"You needn't tell me," I said gently, wanting her to stop thinking of her attack. Suddenly she was on her feet, her hair and eyes wild.

"But I cut him! I don't even know if I killed him," she paced away and whirled back, her movements frantic. "What if he wants me arrested? I took the knife right from his boot and cut him! I didn't think at all!" She covered her face again and I stood quickly. "I couldn't let him have me, Erik. I had to do something…" she was near tears again and I reached for her arm wondering if I should hug her, wanting so badly to help her, heal her, reassure her, just be there for her.

"You did the only thing you could," she looked up, her eyes moist and desperate, full of tender vulnerability and I couldn't stop myself. I folded her into my arms. She sagged against me with a sob clutching my clothing in her hands. "You will not be arrested for defending yourself," I began practically, tucking her under my chin where she seemed to fit so perfectly.

"But what if I killed him," her voice was breathy and hot on my chest.

"You did not kill him," she was trembling from head and toe and I began to sweep my hand over her hair trying to soothe and relax her like a jittery horse.

"How…how do you know?" she asked tentatively as if hoping I had some omnipotent power that could let me know for certain. I was pretty certain she could not have killed him with that knife. Should I tell her I know because of the spread of blood on the knife, because of the small amount on her hand, because of my experience with killing and death? I think not.

"Evidence, Christine. Trust me," my fingers brushed her ear and I repeated the motion again just to feel her skin against mine and then stopped my hand. I held her solidly against my chest and felt her breathe out, relaxing into me.

"I trust you," she said softly her hands uncurling between us. Slowly like time itself was standing still her palms flattened on my chest and felt their way down and around to my back. She hugged me back like she had been waiting all day to hug me and my heart swelled in my chest.

I lost my train of thought as my body felt hers pressed against mine. She was as soft as she looked, as fragile as glass and all I wanted for the rest of my life was for her to be safe, sound and mine. My hand curved protectively over her skull, delving my fingers into her hair to hold her tight. I settled my lips against her hair, smelling the citrusy scent that lingered there and let my hand trail down to the delicate curve of her neck. I could feel how fragile those bones were under my fingertips, how unprotected and oh so breakable they were. My stomach knotted and I clutched her more tightly in my arms cursing God that she had been made to suffer at all. Emotion surged through me and I suddenly had to look at her. I had to look into those golden eyes and see if the light had returned. I cupped her face in my hands, scooping her hair between my fingers in my haste to look at her. She clutched at my vest like she was going to fall over and her eyes shone brilliantly up at me.

My breath was completely stolen and I began to close the distance between us. I needed to kiss her. I needed to purify her completely. The odd thought stopped me mere inches from her lips and her body shivered from head to toe.

"Please," she whispered as her eyes fluttered closed and she swayed on her feet. Horror filled me at my inconsiderate actions. She's just been used in this fashion and I begin to repeat it? I cupped her head and pressed her to my shoulder once more, trying to regain control of myself. I should be flogged! Why would I think kissing her could undo what had been done? It would only compound things! Another man taking advantage of her.

Her body was limp and trembling fearfully against me, her breath and heart quick.

"Christine, forgive me" I grasped her by the shoulders to steady us both and slowly stepped away when I felt she could stand on her own. "The fire needs tending," I mumbled as apology. Fighting the attraction I felt for her was impossible when I had her in my arms, especially with her so needful of physical comfort, but comforting her was too hard for me right now. Maybe I should try other tactics, like smiling and using humor. I always seemed able to make Nadir laugh and perhaps offering comfort with just my hands, with just a small touch and not with my whole traitorous body. I had to try something else or I would eventually break my promise to her. Of that I was certain.

---

Christine

---

I stood with my head down, my hands fisted in the wrapper as Erik tended the fire. The heady emotions he shot through my body made me so dizzy that I thought I might faint. I was sure he would kiss me when he touched my face like that, his eyes burning into me but I'd been wrong and I blushed with shame knowing I would have accepted it. I wanted him to kiss me to rid my mouth of any trace of Raoul. I wanted him to kiss me but he didn't. Even when I begged him. My ears burned with my whispered plea and tears filled my eyes. If he kissed me once wouldn't he want to again? "That was gross" Raoul's words taunted me and I bit my lip hard.

You are just a child to him, stupid girl. How could someone so brilliant be attracted to you?

I didn't even realize how strongly I felt for Erik until the moment he'd cupped my face. I didn't know such a simple touch could unravel me and make my knees weak and my lips tremble for his touch. I swallowed hard to push down the unshed tears and it made me cough sharply.

Erik jerked around to look at me with an uncompromising instructor's light in his eyes. Within minutes he had me on my way to bed, a blanket over me and hot tea in my hand.

"I'm sure it's nothing Erik, just all the crying…" I wasn't sure how to finish that sentence so I trailed off looking down at my hands.

"Be that as it may, I will take no chances when it comes to your voice," he sounded so tender, like he cared a great deal for me, as his student and as his friend.

"I don't want to be away from you," I pouted, only slightly embarrassed to reveal this truth. I felt safe with Erik. I don't know why. His seriousness about everything and his voice...

"I'm not sending you to India, only to your bed," it sounded like he was smiling so I looked back up. "I will be right here, ma petite fleur." He was smiling, just that tiny adorable curl to the corner of his mouth and I stared at his mouth shamelessly. You couldn't see his malformed lip at all beneath the mask, it hid it perfectly. The smile disappeared, "You are safe here," he assured me solemnly as he tucked a curl behind my ear.

"I know," I responded seriously, "Papa must have sent you to guard me."

His lips twitched, "Are you saying you still think I'm an angel?"

"You are the closest I've ever met," he did have a heavenly voice and he was always there to help me in anyway, how was he not an angel, even if not the heavenly kind. His touch sent chills through my body and that made me wonder if he did have some kind of power. Erik's face trembled and then he laughed. It was by no means long but it was a melodious and beautiful laugh that filled me up like water filling a vase. When I was full it overflowed and ran down my body like liquid warmth. His laugh was amazing and I stared at him breathless like a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush. Was it that his laugh had power or that it was so rare that that in itself was powerful when unleashed?

"I'm not sure I fit the requirements," he chuckled cupping my jaw in one cool slim hand, "But I can be your angel." His face went serious in an instant and his hand lingered on my face. When he looked at me like this it made it hard to think, it made breathing hard. He leaned down and my heart tried to leap from my chest as he brushed his lips lightly on my temple. I felt the roughness of the mask briefly before the softness of his lips and then he stepped back putting his arms behind him. "Now off to bed," he commanded.

I wasn't sure I remembered how to walk but I bravely tried on my watery knees. "Good night, Erik," I spoke past the lump in my throat

"Bon nuit, Christine."

Once in my room I peeled my ridged hands off the tea cup and put it on the nightstand. I was surprised I hadn't dropped it when he laughed or when he kissed me. I smiled until I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked terrible. My eyes looked wide and red rimmed, my hair was a snarled rat's nest and the shoulder of the wrapper was torn. I hurriedly stripped it off and threw it in the corner. The cool air made me shiver and I crawled into bed remembering how the wrapper ripped. I squeezed my eyes shut and purposefully shifted my thoughts.

Erik. I sighed, relaxing, as his exquisite voice penetrated my thoughts 'I can be your angel'. I sat up against the pillows to drink the tea he'd made for me. He was such a gentleman, so courteous and caring, willing to do or be anything for me. That in itself made me think he could love me but how. I sipped the tea slowly, he very well may just feel bad for me and my sad situation. I still wasn't sure why he kissed me that one time that I was not allowed to think about.

I shifted the blankets higher as I pondered the inigma that was Erik. He cares for me and doesn't want harm to come to me but doesn't love me? Why waste so much time on me then? He had so much pain inside him that even if I only stayed here as his student and never as something more, I couldn't just ignore his loneliness and sadness. My fallen angel, I thought with a smile, my gentle angel with the soft sad grey eyes and long elegant fingers. I put the cup down half finished and burrowed back under the covers. We were meant to meet, Erik and I. We both needed someone in our lives and I just had to figure out how to make him believe that he needed me too.

---

Erik

---

I flopped into the couch where she'd been sleeping not too long ago, not wanting to leave the room in case she came out and needed me. The thought was still laughable to me, that someone actually needed me. Not just anyone but a beautiful young lady. I sighed as I thought of her empty eyes and was glad they had resumed some of their glow before I'd sent her to bed.

It was no longer a wonder to me that women could so easily control men. When Christine had looked at me with that vulnerability in her eyes my heart had gone to pudding in her hands. I had to put my arms around her to comfort her. My feelings for her have grown so much in so little time that keeping up was impossible. My initial attraction to her voice and her beauty seemed trivial and shallow when compared to the strong mix of tenderness and possessiveness I now felt for her. She repeatedly caused me to feel for her more and more, whether through her endearing innocent laughter or the pain she felt at her father's death or her gentle inquisitions. Everything she did made me feel stronger than I ever have before. I wasn't sure how involved my heart was anymore, not being a good judge of matters of the heart. It was also difficult to sit back and impartially scrutinize the situation when I felt so lost. I was being pulled by a current in an unfamiliar sea. The territory was new and frightening in its intensity and I believed it could truly drown me if I allowed it to. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't anticipate anything because it was all so unknown. She only had to look at me, her tawny eyes large and moist and my brain turned to molasses. I could barely believe I kissed her again. There went that promise but she didn't seem to mind it. She actually seemed to enjoy it but I hated that the mask had touched her first. Stupid idiotic annoying thing.

The tiny spurt of anger was all I needed to be filled with rage again. It roared to life inside me as Christine was not here to stop it.

Raoul.

Pray to the heavens, boy, that I am never left in a room alone with you. Pray that I will never be given the opportunity to take your life without consequence. Pray young man. Pray as hard as you can that Christine's angel will not reign down his wrath upon you.

The dark fury inside me craved for his death but I knew such actions would only lead the police to Christine. They must already be looking for her but she was mine now. No one would take her from me. Ever.

As if summoned, I suddenly smelled her citrus fragrance and my eyes closed in appreciation as my body relaxed. I hadn't noticed how tense I was.

I sat up and checked the time. It was past two in the morning but I was well rested and had work to do. Hurrying to finish Christine's room in just two days had proved impossible. I was glad she hadn't asked about the bath because it still wasn't finished. I made my way to my laboratory where I had the rest of the equipment I needed to install the heated water tank. I had room to spare in my lab so it was no big job to make room for the tank and the small fire pit needed to heat it. I'd already prepared the area and only needed to drill the hole into the washroom and set in the fixture. Then all we had to do was fill and heat the tank about an hour before she wanted a bath and voila, hot water.

There was a reason my houses were expensive. Convenience was key, only the best of everything, beautifully done, with the allure of a reclusive architect. What more could the high society ask for?

I wondered how I could be so rational when I should be pacing, agitated and calculating a death but I was calm for some reason. She was here and safe and I had already decided that I would never let her out of my sight again. I'd still take her to dance classes but I would watch from a distance to ensure her safety. A random image of me flying down from the rafters in cloak and mask to snarl at a man about to touch Christine came to mind and it was utterly ridiculous.

What was I going to do with this obsession? I sighed as I picked up the wickedly sharp twisted awl and wondered if I should make the hole. If Christine happened to come in and saw me drilling a hole into her washroom the assumptions could be quite outrageous.

I debated but then figured she'd be asleep for a while. I knew very well how the body will simply shut off when pushed too far. During several of my beatings I blacked out when I could take no more. Christine was of a much more delicate nature and a scare like she's had would probably keep her asleep until the afternoon.

Decision made I began turning the awl carefully at the mark I'd made on the wall of my lab. Roughly five inches of stone to penetrate and then slide in the metal tubing, which connects to the tank. I really was a genius with this design the only difficulty was making the hole.

After a few hours toiling, and a few reddened spots on my hands from turning the tool, I was done. I filled the tank when everything was in place and prepared the pit with wood. Perhaps around lunch time I would start the fire so the bath could be ready for her when she woke. As I turned to leave the lab I saw the rainbow maker I had fashioned for her. I thought about dismantling it and replacing the crystal in the rock collection where it belonged but the thought of Christine's face when I'd lit the room with rainbows made me leave the lantern where it was.

I would see my angel smile again.

---

Christine

---

I don't know how long I slept but I awoke to complete darkness. I sat up quickly and curled into a ball at the headboard of my bed and was instantly trembling. The only light I could see was a thin line under the door and I staggered out of bed, panic mounting. I pulled the blanket off the bed and knocked over the night stand, splashing cold tea on my stomach and legs. I yelped in surprise and the cup smashed on the ground as I backed into the chair and almost broke a leg as it fell to the ground half dragging me and the blanket with it. I righted myself and scanned for the light but couldn't see it. Barely breathing and with trembling extremities I raced along the wall feeling for the door until finally the knob was in my hand. Erik was close, as if he had heard the commotion, his startled expression easy to see even with the mask on as I burst out into the living area and leaned my back flat on the wall, covering myself with the blanket. I gasped for air and felt my heart slowing.

Silly childish fear really. The dark. Nothing there that is not there in the light, but try telling that to my body. I couldn't help the surge of panic.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he came to me, smooth, elegant and graceful as I stood there in my barely decent blanket, my hair a disaster and my face, I'm sure, having seen much better days. His face showed only concern though as he brushed some curls off my forehead and looked searching into my eyes.

"Light," I whispered knowing I shouldn't speak.

"Of course," he turned brusquely fetching what I needed in that effortlessly graceful way of his and I was soothed just to watch him move. When he turned back I was smiling at him and his eyes softened. He stopped in front of me and searched my face, "What happened in there?" he asked softly but I didn't even have time to open my mouth before he put his fingers there, tsking, "No don't speak, I should know better." His fingers smelled like apples and I was distracted by the urge to lick them and see if they tasted like apples too. He took his hand away and my urge to nibble his fingertips passed.

"If I may enter your room, I will light the lanterns and clean up the broken cup for you?" I stared into his entrancing eyes. Tonight they looked grey blue, like cloudy skies and the candle flickered in them like the sun trying to penetrate those heavy clouds. I nodded assent to whatever he wanted and Erik set himself in motion with a curt nod. Part of me wanted to follow him just to watch as he moved from lantern to candle, gliding from task to task but I didn't, knowing I was hideously indecent in my current state. I stayed leaning on the wall staring out at his living area. Everything there was beautiful to look at, the tables and rugs, piano, books, and shelves mounted as if growing from the stone walls. All of it rich and opulent to me even though the backdrop was an underground cave. But even that seemed opulent in a fairytale type of way. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes.

I liked it here with Erik. I suppose I would like it anywhere so long as I had him. He filled my mind with so many thoughts and questions. He always dressed so handsomely and the way he moved was so pleasurable to watch. It was as if he had been made just for me. Everything about him intrigued me or made me melt. I smiled remembering his lips on my forehead but then I thought of Raoul's kiss and his hurtful words. My throat tightened painfully. He was a liar! Papa would never give me to him.

I pushed away from the wall to get some water in the kitchen, determined to not think of what had happened and heard water running from my room. I threw the blanket around my shoulders and followed the sound to my washroom. Erik was laying out a bath for me. I wanted to say thank you but couldn't and gripped the blanket in frustration. He does everything for me and I can't even talk to convey my thanks. He saw me and straightened with an odd looking thing in his hands.

"I just began preparing some food so you have time to bathe before we eat. There are a few different shampoos and oils there for you to choose from," he gestured to the tray laden with colored glass bottles. "And this," he tossed the strange plant in his hands, "Is a sea sponge. I discovered them when I was in Italy."

He stopped speaking and just looked down at me as if unsure whether to hand it to me. I reached out and touched the odd thing and felt how hard and prickly it was. I raised my eyebrows hoping to convey my question.

"You wash with it," he strode to the water and immersed the sea thing. After a few seconds he squeezed it and repeated this a few times before bringing it back to me. It was soft and holding water like a cloth would, except better. I smiled up at him and he turned like he was embarrassed and began gathering and sorting things. "I apologize that the bath was not operational before this, it took a few days to get the parts ready. I hope the water is not too hot," he seemed to be babbling, which he rarely did, so I enjoyed listening to him talk with a smile on my face until he finally had gathered everything and laid out everything I might need. He stopped and looked at me and I tightened the hold on the blanket, making sure it went all the way around me, knowing that once again I was displaying a lack of propreity and subjecting him to my naughty behavior.

He left the washroom swiftly without another word and I heard my bedroom door close. I hung my head in shame wishing I knew what to say to make him forgive me for my earlier indelicacy and recent indelicacy. Maybe I was just wholly indelicate and not a lady at all. What had I ever learned about being a lady anyway? I only knew how to be a girl and a dancer.

I peeked out and saw that everything was back in order, the chair righted, the smashed cup gone and even the torn wrapper cleared out from the corner I had thrown it in. Erik knew I would never want to see it again but I might have to ask him if he could buy a replacement for Meg. Maybe I could give her the black one from the closet so he wouldn't have to spend any more money. I opened said closet to look through the dresses again. Today I would wear one of the simple ones and try to act properly. There were eight house dresses, all in various colors. I choose one that had a modest neckline in a pretty color and laid it out on the bed.

I felt like a spoiled princess as I sank into the heated bath water. New clothes, a bath fit for a queen and my sea creature. I squeezed the thingy over my neck letting the water run down my spine.

I was in a fairytale. I never imagined that those sorts of things came true, that there was a prince out there for me who would make everything right in the world. I only thought they were fun bedtime stories but I was living in an underground cave with an enchanting masked man who tended to my every need with grace and elegance. This had to be a fairytale and I was the spoiled princess.

I didn't linger too long in the bath because he had mentioned food and my stomach growled impatiently at the thought. I slapped it wishing it would not be so loud and rude.

I toweled my hair as dry as I could and slipped into my underclothes and then pulled on the dress. It fit me perfectly and I stood back to admire the luxurious fabric, color and cut in the mirror. Now I looked like a princess too, except for my hair. I started trying to comb it out but as always it knotted. I debated asking Erik for help but then chided myself for being so timid. He would gladly help me and there was nothing indelicate about combing someone's hair, so I came out of the room feeling very much refreshed with a comb in my hand.


	16. Memories and Music

---

Erik

---

I looked up from my work in the kitchen when I heard her door open and watched as she came around the corner. She was wearing the mauve day dress I'd chosen and it suited her coloring perfectly, as well as the cut flattering her small frame. It was odd to see her hair so flat when a short time ago it had risen from around her face like a cloud, a very knotted cloud but still beautiful. She held out a comb in front of her.

"Do you have time to help me untangle my hair before we eat?" I froze as her request thrust me into an old memory.

I was standing behind my mother reaching to help her with her hair, yearning for her touch. I didn't understand why she hated me and would never talk to me. She whirled around, her face pressed in furious lines, "Don't touch me," she shrieked and then her smile that wasn't a happy one, "If you touch me I will die and then what will you do little monster?"

My vision blurred on Christine's open and smiling face and then I turned back to what I was doing. "Of course," I mumbled, dazed by the intensity of the memory. I hadn't remembered that mother had curly hair. Is that why I so enjoyed Christine's?

I poked the potatoes to check doneness and then washed my hands. I moved to the table to pull out the chair for Christine, she handed me the comb as she sat with a thank you. I stood behind her marveling at how easy she seemed to be around me and then began on her hair.

---

Christine

---

He approached me with empty eyes, whatever he was seeing it wasn't me and I realized how used I was to having him really see me, to acknowledge me. To most people I was forgettable, dispensable, but to Erik I mattered.

His fingers in my hair were pure heaven. The other girls helping me had clouded my memories of how Papa used to help, gentle patience so not one hair was plucked out. Erik was the same, his fingers deft, even through the large knot I'd created and my eyes wanted to close in bliss.

"My mother had curly hair," he murmured almost to himself and I felt like he was reliving some long lost moment. Did he not remember his mother? "She never let me touch it, she never let me touch …her." I bit my lip not sure if he wanted me to respond. He'd spoken offhandedly as if he'd forgotten I was there, his voice distant and devoid of feeling and very, very soft. His mother wouldn't let him touch her? Was it her who made him hate himself? Anger swelled inside me for this unknown woman. She was obviously dense to not see the beauty in Erik, in her own son! Was it her who made him think he needed to wear that mask?

Tenderness flooded me and when Erik proclaimed to be done I turned half around in the seat to gaze up at him and accept the comb.

"Do you need it braided?" his hand swept over my damp hair as if longing to pick it up and slide it through his fingers some more. I almost did want it braided just to have his hands playing with my hair but I wanted it to dry quickly and not take all day.

"Maybe later?" I asked hopefully and his lips twitched.

"If you like." I got up to go put the comb away and rub some oil on my hair. It kept the curls from getting too frizzy. I usually had a lotion made with lemon but Erik had bought me a few proper hair tonics in small glass bottles. I opened one that smelled like roses and ran my fingers through my hair quickly before washing my hands to return to the kitchen.

As I re-entered the kitchen I stopped at the familiar pulsing energy I felt in the small space. Erik was rather vigorously stirring the contents of a pot and his shoulders were tense. I could feel it in the air. He was like a large tuning fork of rage and my heart quickened.

"Can I help, Erik?" I began to slowly enter the room as if walking through water. I was glad my voice sounded normal because I was again instinctively frightened by that skin rippling hum that emanated from Erik. I could feel the seething anger that danced around him and wasn't sure if he even heard my question.

"Why was it that she didn't let me? Hmm?" his voice was low and menacing and I stopped a foot away as he glowered at the food he'd prepared. "I know why! I repulsed her! You've seen it! I'm hideous!" the last word echoed around us.

I stood with my mouth open staring at him. I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to grab him and shake him. I wanted to cradle him in my arms as his mother never did. I wanted to take the mask from his face and kiss his sunken cheek.

I stepped forward cautiously not really sure what I planned but I as brought my hand to his tense arm the words spilled out, "I have seen it and I don't think you're hideous at all. Not even the tiniest bit. Not in the slightest degree. Not one iota…"

I pressed my lips wondering if letting words spill uncontrollably was very ladylike but Erik's controlled beating of the pot's contents slowed and stopped. He turned to me his shoulders sagging forward as he sighed.

"I seem to ask your forgiveness quite often, Christine and I am pressed to do it again." He took my hands in his and bowed his head over them, "My memories of my mother are unpleasant and I overreacted."

I stepped closer wanting to console him but he held my hands tightly in his and wouldn't let them go.

"Tell me," I whispered to his bowed head, wanting to take away his pain and he looked up surprised and hurt, his eyes the windows to his wounded soul.

"No, my dear, it's too terrible for you to hear," he pulled me into his arms to comfort me, shouldn't I be comforting him? "Just please forgive me," he whispered fiercely into my wet hair, holding me hard against him.

"Of course I forgive you," I breathed, "Of course." I held him tight wishing I could unwrap the pain from his eyes. I wished we could hold each other forever, offering comfort but he pulled away so soon with a quiet thank you. He looked tired and deflated, not at all my powerful guardian angel, as he turned back to the food.

I turned to help set the table, half blinded by my tears. I thought it would be easy to tell Erik that I cared for him but I hadn't the faintest clue how to let him know he could cross the delicate line between friendship and something more. How do you tell a man he can kiss you without setting yourself up for extreme embarrassment? How do you voice things that should never be spoken outside of marriage?

Erik set our plates on the table and I saw the roasted pork, apples, and potatoes covered with gravy and my mouth fell open. It was dinner time! I looked at the clock on the wall and it read twenty after seven. No wonder my room was pitch black when I woke. I slept the whole night and day away!

"I slept all day?" I asked just to be certain and Erik turned with the water jug in his hands.

"Yes, you did. I was beginning to worry," he placed the jug down and held out my chair for me. I lowered myself properly and looked up at him over my shoulder.

"Why didn't you check on me?"

His face fluttered, a horrified look passing fleetingly, before he frowned at me. "I would not enter your bedchamber without your permission." I looked down and turned several shades of red, thoroughly embarrassed that I said the wrong thing.

"I didn't mean to imply…" Erik made a noise and cut off my sentence.

"Since I now have your permission I will just check on you if I ever become worried that you are sleeping too much." I looked up at him confused. He sounded like he was trying to make a joke out of it but it was not a very good attempt. "We should eat before the food cools." That sounded more like Erik and I briefly said grace in my head as he sat to join me.

"Thank you for making dinner," I tried to ease the awkward tension as we picked up our utensils.

"I knew you would be hungry," he brushed it off and I wondered if I wasn't here if he would be eating. He didn't have much food on his plate and I wondered if it contributed to his lean frame. I so wanted to take care of him for a change so he could see I was capable of it and not totally immature. I'd taken care of Papa for years, why could I not do the same for Erik?

I was twelve years old the day Papa's coughing had gotten very bad. I remember I firmly took the dishes he was putting away out of his hand and told him to go lie down. From that day onward I was the lady of the house, preparing all the meals and doing all the cleaning. Papa's cough eventually got better and would go away seasonally but every winter it would return with a vengeance. Except for last winter when it didn't go away in the spring. How could I be so naïve to the fact that he was dying? He'd wasted before my very eyes and I was too daft to take notice.

I stared down at the plate suddenly not very hungry but Erik had made all this food and I swallowed it not really tasting anything for the first little while.

---

Erik

---

Dinner was silent. I felt sort of childish over my little outburst but I couldn't help the welling of anger for all the years I was mistreated for my face. I always thought I deserved to be treated the way that my mother and the gypsies treated me. I was something distasteful, something to be kept at arms length, as unwanted as the plague but Christine looked at me like I was normal. She let me touch her, comb her hair, she even invited me to play with her hair later, smiling like a sweet angel. Then I'd erupted at her, venting my years of frustration in a childish manner, yelling at her about my mother and my face like she could do something about it. I was just glad she forgave me. I glanced at her quickly.

Her hair was starting to dry and was curling itself back up in every imaginable direction. She was concentrating on her plate and I looked back at mine sheepishly. How was I supposed to eat when this vision sat across from me? A vision that said I was not hideous, not even the slightest bit, not one iota. It made me want to take off my mask and let her eyes gaze fully upon my face without reserve. Let me see what you think then and perhaps...

I grimaced, perhaps nothing. She never brought up the mask so why should I? I was still angry though, that I let all those people get away with treating me like garbage. Made me especially angry at my mother and the gypsies she sold me to. I never imagined I would be entitled to more then the meager life I had assumed for myself. I was a monster. One girl who looked at me normally didn't make me less of a monster.

Christine sighed in satisfaction and the sound was almost erotic.

"Fantastic Erik, you are a marvelous chef," she pushed away from the table to begin clearing the plates.

"You needn't clean up," I assured her pushing out my own chair to take over.

"Nonsense, you do so much for me. Let me do this," she said over her shoulder as she placed the dishes in the basin. I sat in my chair not really knowing what to do with myself and she turned around her hands clasped together. "There is one thing you could do for me…" she trailed off ducking her head.

I sat up straight. "Anything you need," I pledged, wanting to make up for my behavior.

"I would love to hear you play again."

"Anything in particular you wish to hear?" I rose from the chair.

She grinned saucily, "The piano."

I couldn't restrain myself, I smiled back at her, careful not to pop the mask off my face with my exuberance and she blushed pink and looked down. How I wanted to sweep her into my arms and cover those rosy lips with mine to taste the sweet flavor of her mouth. I turned away from the temptation and went to my piano. How did such an innocent gesture from her raise such an illicit response in me?

These base urges of mine must be dealt with. It was so easy to believe that she wanted more than my friendship and protection. So easy to misread the trust and respect in her eyes and see a deeper emotion. But I would never jeopardize our friendship by bringing up a relationship discussion, besides I had to be at least fifteen years older than her. Not a crime, but not what she deserves.

I tried to decide what to play for her as my fingers quickly skipped up and down the piano warming up. None of my own music for now, I wasn't sure how it would affect her after that one day. I stroked the keys as I thought of just the right piece and then fluidly dove in. I glanced back at the kitchen to see her puttering around.

I had to take her back tonight; people must be looking for her. She gets attacked and no one cares? Impossible. But a part of me just wanted to stretch it out and keep her with me for as long as she allowed. If she didn't ask to go back then she wanted to stay right?

She was truly perfect in every imaginable way. She wasn't flighty or dense, she had a marvelous brain thirsting for knowledge, good humor, breathtaking beauty. She had every quality a man could ever want in his wife.

The word echoed in my head and I could barely believe I'd thought it. Wife. My stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of another man touching her, holding her, braiding her hair for her. I would never allow it. She was mine to care for so why could I not also be that man? Was I not already the man who touched her and held her and such? Would she give me even more if I pressed her for it?

I heard the rustle of fabric on leather and glanced covertly as she sat on the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. Her hair was still slightly wet and hung around her shoulders like something from a dream. She tossed it expertly with the help of one hand and she looked like a little fairy maiden alighting upon my couch to listen to my creations.

I suddenly violently wanted so much more out of life than I ever have before. Why couldn't I?

I decided in that moment that she would be mine forever. She seemed to enjoy being with me and if I was only being myself then what was the harm in that? She didn't think I was hideous and I had disclosed my past to her. I was not forcing her to stay here. She wanted to stay. I would try to relax more and be more open. When it came to music, my forte, I would not hold back anymore, enough hiding from her like a little boy. She is at least your friend and you could trust her as she trusts you.

"I'm going to play you a piece I wrote," a quick look her way to see the smile playing on her lips and I turned back to the piano before I lost my nerve.

---

Christine

---

He turned back to the piano and I realized I was sitting on my feet. I slipped them down to the floor with as little rustle as I could, knowing it couldn't be very lady like and he started to play. What he must think of me? Dancers are whores, Raoul's voice taunted in my head and I frowned at the thought. Erik did not think that.

The notes from the piano distracted me and I looked up at Erik as he played. His body flowed as if it were part of the music. His hands danced over the keys, floating over one another, playing the most incredible music. The notes blended so well that I was sure there was more than one melody being played but I couldn't pick it out. It wasn't like anything I'd ever heard, so complex but simple to listen to.

Of course Erik would write the most beautiful music. I closed my eyes to better appreciate it and felt a pull to the music. It drew in my breath and held it as my heart accelerated in time to the notes. I was suddenly standing and didn't remember getting up.

I pulled my hair over my shoulder clutching it in both hands, a little scared that I had no recollection of standing and walking half the distance to Erik. His eyes were closed and I wondered if I should try to sit down but the music weakened my knees and I was pulled to his side by the enticing song. This was how he'd played that day when I danced. I couldn't form a complete thought, his music called to me and now that I didn't have to dance I was drawn to his side.

He glanced at me over one shoulder with a curious look but continued to play and I closed my eyes in reverence. This music was inspiring. I longed to sing it and without thought I reached out to touch him before I let loose my instrument. He flinched and sadness filled me. I would get him used to my touch.

I let him become used to the weight of my hands on his shoulder blades and after a minute he relaxed. I was able to feel his muscles moving under his soft clothing as he spanned the keys expertly. His music filled me to the roots of my hair and I wanted to share that exulted feeling with him. I shivered at the feel of his back so close to my front and it reminded me of when he'd kissed me.

Emotion rushed through me and I began singing with Erik's music. There were no words, only Erik's music unraveling in my head and spilling from my mouth. I'd never heard this song but I was able to sing with him as if I had. It felt amazing! My heart was beating quickly as I slid my hands over his shoulders and back. Our sound was so unique that I felt triumphant in our achievement. I wanted to better express this feeling and words began forming to a simple song.

I sang to Erik in Swedish because your mother tongue is always the easiest, and hopefully he wouldn't know what I was saying. I sang of loneliness, both his and mine and sadness too deep to name. It rolled easily in my native language, my sentences being dictated by Erik's phrasing. We seemed to know precisely how the other was shaping the music and I leaned into him to smell that spicy foreign woodsy scent that was all Erik's.

My nose skimmed his ear and he shuddered under my hands the music faltering and then falling silent. I was deafened in the sudden silence and quickly took my hands from his body. What was I doing groping him like that?

He turned and looked at me from the bench and I felt like my eyes would devour every image of him. He stared right back at me with curiosity but also with a burn in his eyes that made me feel very exposed. He pierced into my soul with his direct grey eyes and my heart fluttered in my throat. I had no idea what had just happened. It was magical and impossible and it only further assured me that Erik and I were connected in ways I could only begin to imagine.

"Would you like to sit here?" I shivered at his voice and gazed at his hand where it patted the seat beside him. He was completely relaxed, not the usual frown and I judged from his ease that he was okay with what had just happened. So was I. Anytime I could join with him like that was okay with me.

"Yes," I stepped around the bench with a shy smile and sat next to him gathering my hair over my shoulder nervously. Belatedly I realized I just bared my entire neck and collarbone to him due to the oval neckline of the dress and I was sitting on his right side where his lips could skim softly up my neck in a delicate caress. I quickly covered my bare neck with one hand, wishing I hadn't listened to everything Meg and Julie said. They filled my innocent head with horrid sexual thoughts and I was finding it hard to concentrate as I imagined Erik doing some of them to me.

His hands suddenly lifted to the keys and came down in a series of melodic chords. I watched his elegant fingers dance over the keys rhythmically and then he started to sing. His voice was so exquisite to my ears that I looked up at him and was entirely content. The singing Erik was easy to fall in love with, his mouth soft and moving with his words, his hands gentle on the keys, his eyes and face full of music. Love for him spilled over my heart and warmed me through. I reached down and laid my palm over his knee.

Erik tensed and his song ended shortly after that. The silence again felt deafening to me and then he touched me.

His long boned hand covered mine gently, the calluses cool on my skin and I slid my hand against his until I could hold it meshed with mine. It was as if something slid into place inside me and my mind breathed a sigh of relief. Erik…

Our hands fit so perfectly together that a feeling of overwhelming rightness settled in me and I looked up into his serious face and tender sad eyes. This strange solitary genius, who has killed countless people, has captured not only my mind and voice but now my heart. I looked into his burning eyes and knew it to be true. What now?

---

Erik

---

Part of me was stunned by the feeling of our hands pressed together. Her warmth and my coolness contrasting to the point that I thought she might be holding my hand only to warm it. She was just an affectionate girl and saw me as her guardian, as her replacement father. But then the irrational part was telling me far more seductive things.

You play the music you wrote for her and she comes to put her hands on you and then sings like she's already heard this song, molding her warm up notes into a tender story of mutual loneliness and the desire to heal our hearts before she presses her breasts to my back and breaths in my ear. Was she trying to tell me something and I was too dense to follow?

Was it truly possible that she may want more then just friendship from me?

The look in her eyes certainly was telling me she did. She stared at me like she thought I might be tasty and it was doing nothing to bring more rational thoughts to the foreground.

I had to do something about the delirious thoughts in my head so I smiled, a little dangerously at my innocent vixen, while seriously entertaining thoughts of giving in to my desire.

---

Christine

---

Erik's hand tightened and he unleashed a smile, like an arrow through my heart and I wanted to kiss him. I burned to kiss him but I'd only ever had two kisses and neither one had been very educational. Also Raoul's disgusted 'that was gross' had made me wonder if that's why Erik didn't want to kiss me again but he was too much of a gentleman to say such a thing.

I brought my free hand to my face thoroughly embarrassed that I wanted to kiss Erik so badly. I was too afraid to try and be pushed away. I would never be able to look at him if such a thing happened.

"Are you well, Christine?" his hand touched my face worriedly and my name from his lips sent a tremor of awareness through my body. He instantly went rigid beside me and took his hands away. My own worries were forgotten and I looked up at Erik's hard blank mask of a face.

"I'm fine, are you okay?" I searched his eyes looking for the softness he'd just shown me when he smiled but it was gone and I'd chased it away somehow.

"Of course," he said crisply like it was foolish for me to ask. I knew he was lying but I didn't think it would be wise to bring it up and demand he tell the truth. I should get used to his rapid shifts in mood. Instead I looked back down at his hand lying in his lap and slowly reached for it again. Gentle patience would be required to get him to emerge from his shell.

I laid my hand on his as an offering and our hands slid together again as if they had been made to mesh. I liked the way it felt to rub his thumb with mine and noticed his fingers came almost all the way to my wrist.

He began to relax again but not like he had been a moment ago.

"I need to ask you something, Erik."

"Yes," his voice was pushed out awkwardly and didn't sound like him but I pressed on.

"I…um…I'd like to…well, would you mind..." I let my breath out noisily, my heart thumping madly. I never thought it would be so difficult to ask him to stay here but of course it would be. It was forward and rude and I just couldn't stop myself. I wasn't brave enough to ever go back to live in that tiny room and wait for Raoul to come finish the job or his father to come send me home.

Home. Tears filled my eyes at the thought. I didn't have a home anymore. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes squeezing the hand in mine. But I had Erik.

"I would like it very much if you would allow me to stay with you," I peeked at him to see surprise on his face and barreled on. "I completely understand that I'm being horribly bad mannered to even ask and you have every right to say no. I'm sure you are terribly busy and have plenty of things to do besides tend to me and my…" I was cut off by his fingers on my mouth.

"You are always welcome here, Christine. Though you must allow me some time to complete my work, the rest of my available time I am your humble servant for as long as you desire." His words were sincere and incredibly romantic and his hand hovered by my cheek before he let it drop away. "Is there anything you require from upstairs?" he played a quick arpeggio up and down quirking his eyebrow up while I tried to regain my senses.

He looked at me like I was a priceless artifact and he was too afraid to touch me, like I was precious and irreplaceable and very breakable. I liked it quite a lot and then his romantic prose whirring in my ears.

"Just a few things," I squeaked out, excited that I could stay with him indefinitely. "Shall we fetch them now?"

He checked his pocket watch, smoothly slipping it back in its place with his long deft fingers, "Perhaps later when everyone is asleep." I followed his hand back to the piano where he depressed a series of keys almost absently. They dance briefly and I sighed content, and leaned my head on his shoulder wrapping both my hands around his.

---

Erik

---

Her hair was tickling my neck and the scent of roses assailed me but I tried to remain calm as she nuzzled her cheek to my shoulder with a sigh. It was craziness this torrent of emotion that ripped my insides apart. I wanted to wrap myself around her and take her down to the floor where I could devour her with my hands and mouth. Each second she touched me was an eternity of anguished longing and my mind was barely focused as my hand danced over the keys.

Could she feel for me as I did for her? Would a creature such as myself actually be blessed with the love of an angel? Her eyes had held some warm emotion that I'd never been taught to recognize but it had held me mesmerized and I could only think that it had been love.

She sighed again and I could feel the warmth of it through my clothing as her hands moved over mine gently. I couldn't take much more of this but I was just stunned into submission for now. The moment I decide I want her fully she comes and shows me she already is mine.

Except for when I touched her face. Her shiver of revulsion had been clear to me and I suddenly felt pain in my chest. She was so good and so thankful that she would endure my touch to show her thanks. 'I have nothing to give you!' her frantic blurted words re-played themselves. Was she doing this because her body was the only thing she had to give me?

Oh dark and twisted corners of my mind why can you never let me be happy…

---

Christine

---

My eyes were closed in peace as Erik played intricate melodies with only one hand. Those deft long fingers excelled at every task they put their mind to and I couldn't wait to have my hair braided by him. It was almost dry and I removed one hand from Erik's to tousle the curls.

"You should try to get a few hours of sleep before we go." I looked over surprised at his curt order.

"But I slept all day," I heard the whine in my voice and immediately turned pink.

"Even if you do not sleep, you should go to your room and rest." He was firm with me and I pulled away like a rebuked child, standing to go with tears burning in my eyes.

"I'm sorry for arguing with you," I whispered to try to make amends. I was already embarrassed to ask to stay with him and then I argue when I should be thanking him until I was hoarse.

"Christine," my name sent chills down my body and I turned towards him not even clear from the bench. He spoke my name as if it was a holy word and I met his urgent gaze as he reached for my hand. "I do not mean to order you about," he frowned down at my hand like he wasn't sure what to say and then he stood. I had no room to breathe as the nearness of his hard body hummed along my skin. I backed up in the small amount of space and my bottom and hands depressed the keys of the piano in discordant harmony. I looked up at him with a quiver in my belly wondering if he realized what his proximity did to me or was he ignorant of it? His hand rose to stroke my throat as my heart beat wildly.

"My concern is for your health and well-being. When I found you yesterday…" he trailed off as if he couldn't finish. I didn't want to think about yesterday either and had no trouble keeping it out of my head while Erik slid his hand around my neck under my hair. His fingertips trailed over the bones of my neck and then swept into my hair as I melted. My eyes closed in ecstasy and his hand fisted in my hair before falling away. "You are very dear to me," he exhaled harshly like it was hard to say out loud and I wanted to wrap my arms around him tightly.

With a tripping heart I slid my hand down his straining forearm to his fist. I covered it gently wondering why he would be so tense after revealing something so special. I brought my other hand to his chest to feel if his heart was hammering like mine. He looked down at me like he would memorize my face and I wanted to say something important, something meaningful. I wanted to tell him how I felt.

"After…afterwards all I wanted was to be with you. It's only with you that everything in my life is normal again." I was being sincere and Erik looked ready to laugh.

His lips pressed and twitched as he led me from the confines of the bench.

"All this is normal to you?" his voice sparkled with his restrained laughter and he swept out his hand to take in his home and his mask in one fluid gesture.

"Maybe not normal," I conceded as I smiled at him slowly, "But then am I normal myself?" I teased glad to see him relaxed again.

His face went utterly serious but his eyes still sparkled at me, "Non ma chere, tu es extraordinaire." I knew enough French to blush at his compliment and broke our gaze shyly. He walked me to my door and then pressed a light kiss to my hand. "Will you please rest for awhile, Christine?"

"I will, Erik," how could I say no when he pleaded like that, I would give him anything.

As I turned to say my usual good night so much more spilled out. "Thank you for all you've done for me and all you continue to do. I don't know why you let me invade your life this way but I'm forever grateful. I shudder to think what my life would be like right now without you in it." I looked down feeling like I was rambling on. "Thank you for playing for me. It was beautiful," I fell silent staring at his shoes.

"You like my music?" he asked softly like he needed confirmation of what I'd said. I smiled slowly thinking of his hands on the keys, his body swaying with the song, pulling me to my feet to express his creation and joining with him to create our musical perfection.

"Yes," I said grinning foolishly not able to express in words how his music made me feel. His eyes danced with hope and disbelief as he slowly joined me, his lips curling seductively. I stared at him adoringly with a lovesick smile until he lowered his lashes and took my hands in his once more. I was expecting a kiss but he only bowed his head over them, briefly resting his forehead on our joined hands. I thought about kissing his head, I could do that but then thought if he raised his head and we collided it would be so silly so I squeezed his hands and conveyed my feelings as best I could. He breathed out as tension left his body that I hadn't noticed was there.

"Bon soir, ma chardonnerette, I will wake you when it's time," he turned me towards my door authoritatively.

"Bon soir," I whispered.

---

Erik

---

I prowled about restlessly waiting until it was time to fetch her things. She was magnificent. There were no words to describe her magnificence, she just was. And I, the lowly creature, was completely enthralled, irreversibly obsessed and entirely lusting for her.

Would she actually allow me access to her body just to say thank you? Did she honestly want this monster kissing her and touching her or would she cry herself to sleep afterwards? I made her feel normal? None of it made any sense to me and when she touched me it made it doubly hard for me to think. I would have to plan my actions carefully to keep her from taking me unaware with her affectionate touches and gazes.

If she ever offered herself to me would I have the strength to refuse? Why would I refuse exactly? I was horribly muddled trying to decipher her actions and tried to focus on the important bits.

My unexpected touch made her shudder. When I let her see I meant to touch her she could contain the reflex but when I surprised her on the piano bench her body had rippled with revulsion. She couldn't really be okay with my advances. I killed people with these hands and she would never forget it. But the memory of her head on my shoulders and her gentle warm hands around mine was so nice that negativity was pushed aside for now.

She made me melt, she made me hard, she made me yearn, she made me think I deserved differently, she made me hope, she made me feel alive…

That most of all was precious to me. When I had her with me, next to me, I didn't feel so dead inside. This angel of light was conquering the dark I surrounded myself with and her continued friendship and her recent sweetness when she called me normal made me want to shout with joy and laughter from a rooftop. I never realized women were so funny or so irresistible.

I never realized something as simple as lust could feel so complex when I looked at her.

I checked the time. One thirty. I stood. Time to go. I knocked on her door firmly, loudly enough to wake her. In the silent moment a felt a twinge of guilt for forcing her to keep my strange hours but we would be quick and then she could go back to bed.

She knocked back and I turned to put on my outerwear. Within ten minutes we were in the corridor leading up to the roof. She reached out and touched my arm and I looked back at her inquisitively. She looked so sweet with her hair pulled back but sort of rumpled looking.

"How many secret corridors do you have?"

I smiled slightly, "Too many." I'd gone a little overboard in my boredom and secret tunnels and passageways littered the cellars of the opera. I could get anywhere if I wanted to take the time to. Most times I only used the stairs to the roof and to the managers office, the rest of the tunnels were a little pointless, except they helped us tonight and would serve us when she went off to her dance practice.

"Do you ever get lost?" it sounded like she was smiling and I stopped where we had to turn off and touched the lever in the wall. I looked sideways at her while the doorway slid open.

"No," I sort of bragged as I stepped through and held my hand over the door to keep it from accidentally replacing itself. I'd had it happen to me a few times and was loathe for it to happen to Christine. She passed through the opening and watched as the door slid back in place then her warm eyes twinkled at me.

"It's like a secret labyrinth," she smiled, the light from the lantern glistening off her teeth. Feeling a surge to be playful I tilted my hat down with the tips of my fingers and bowed to her.

"Welcome to the Phantom's labyrinth, Mademoiselle," I uncurled from my mock bow and Christine, laughing, put her hand in mine.

"Lead the way O' Phantom of mine," her eyes fairly glittered at me and I led her on with a warmth in my chest and a tingle up my neck. Is that how she thought of me? Was I hers?

That would be…splendid.

Fetching her things was easy enough. There was nary a soul in the corridor when we walked down the hall from the tunnel's exit to her room. Some lights had been extinguished but not all and I moved from shadow to shadow, silent with Christine behind me, feeling slightly exposed. She didn't have much left and her small bag was quickly packed and in my hand as we started down the stairs back into my darkness.

"Wait Erik," she whispered and I turned to see her at the top of the stairs, working the lever as I'd shown her. "I forgot the closet…" and she was gone, the wall back in place.

My heart constricted painfully and I dropped the bag and bounded up the few stairs to the passage. Would I never be able to let her out of my sight? I shook my head a little and I tried to breathe and think past the panic that surged through me. I had to protect her…but…discovery…for her…

She vanished so fast. Like one second would be all it took to take her from me and I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.

I let my rational thought come back to me and hung the lantern to step out into the dim hall and accost the first person to appear, be it Christine or anyone else. I crossed my arms, scowling in the light. I was not pleased with her rash behavior but my heart was racing at the thought of something happening to her.

I think I almost stopped Christine's heart when she looked up at me. Fear flashed briefly over her face but she came towards me quickly with a mumbled apology and I wasn't about to delay up here. I opened the passage and we passed through seamlessly. The cloak I gave her was wrapped around something, probably the rest of her clothing from the closet. She opened her mouth and I made a sharp gesture to stop her and reached for the bundle.

She backed up from me quickly bumping the wall and started babbling quietly.

"No I can carry this. You already have to carry my bag and the lantern. I can help you Erik. It's not that heavy." She was practically trembling but it didn't look like fear…

She bit her lip and I began our descent. I didn't know what else to do. I think I was crazy for doing this. Christine in my house permanently was going to drive me crazy. I was already crazy for doing this. People must be looking for her. How does an angel end up having to rely on the like's of me? A retired killer who's pretending to be a phantom. Ridiculous.

She was quiet most of the way, until we passed into the last dark corridor that lead down to the lake, she started humming. I couldn't be sure but I thought the first part was from our song earlier.

That song. The feeling of being joined with her in those few moments had been the most magnificent moment of my life, the way her voice had joined joyously with my music, her hands so unexpectedly touching me. My heart stirred at the memory. And then she'd held my hand gently with a look on her face. Such a look I never thought to see looking at me. Then I made her shudder with just a touch.

The cold seeped back in and I quickened my step. I was aware that our decision for her to stay was very selfish on my part. I wanted her to be mine in any manner that she would allow but she didn't belong down here and would never learn to be alone and take care of herself if I kept keeping her with me. But I myself was finding it hard to be alone anymore. I wanted to have her around me, puttering and fussing and babbling and gazing at me, while I cooked or played or created something. The only issue was my control at keeping things platonic. I could almost feel her behind me, her lithe body swishing along with her absent tune and the knowledge that I would be living and breathing next to that body…

My teeth were firmly clamped when I opened the front door and Christine walked straight into the sitting area to put the cloak down in there for some reason. I removed my cloak, hat and gloves and paused for a moment to consider taking off the mask. My brow was sore because I'd worn the damn thing the entire time I drilled the hole for her bath tub. Would she be shocked if I removed it without warning? Would she be able to look me in the face as she usually did? Not one iota, Christine had whispered and the way she looked at me made me believe she didn't think I was hideous. But how could I take it off? I might as well take off all my clothes then because I would feel just as naked.

"Do you have a headache? Would you like something to drink?" her hand alighted on my shoulder and I twitched at her gentle hand.

"I'm fine," I assured her and she searched my face with a concern I didn't feel I deserved. She was so good and I was so not. I moved to tend the fire. We were consuming a lot of my wood supply. I often would let a fire burn until it went out, not lighting another until I needed hot water or noticed the chill, which wasn't often. With Christine here I would have to restock once a week judging from consumption.

I stood and brushed my pants flat and heard Christine behind me. She stood beside the bundle on the carpet and was biting her lip quite hard. I wanted to tell her to not bite through her perfect plump pink lip. I also wanted to hurry her off to bed and lock her away in her room for the night. I wanted to say something brilliant to capture her interest.

"I have a gift for you," she blurted suddenly.

"A gift?" I answered stupidly. So much for brilliance.

"Well, it's not new and I didn't spend a penny on it, but it is for you," she finished softly as she leaned to fold back the cloak. An old, very worn, well loved violin case was revealed within. Immediately I knew what it was and I exhaled quietly as I stepped forward and knelt by the case to run my hand over the smooth leather.

She knelt on the other side, her skirt settling like a mushroom cap. "Open it," she smiled encouragingly and I popped the clasps, flipping open the lid. The dark wood of the bell shone dimly in the half light and I stroked the strings gently. She was giving me her father's violin. He'd been her entire world and she was giving the instrument to me as a gift? The full meaning struck me and I looked up at her uncertainly.

She would not give this lightly. Did she care so much for me? Her hand reached out and trailed down the neck as she sighed prettily, her eyes full of nostalgia.

"He would play for me all the time, to wake me up or put me to sleep, to cheer me or to accompany my dancing or singing. He made music such a part of my life that I didn't feel whole without it." I noticed how close our hands were on the violin between us, it would only take one small inch to feel her warm skin if I had that kind of courage. "When he died…" her voice cracked and I found I did have some courage and took her hand. Her eyes met mine, swimming gold, "When he died, part of me died with him, the part that lived and breathed his music was suddenly gone. I barely…" she swallowed hard and looked at our linked hands, or maybe she was looking at the violin beneath them. "You brought music back me. You brought back to life such a large part of my heart that no mere words can express how truly thankful I am." She squeezed my hand for emphasis and emotion filled me, not all of them tender. She was thanking me? And for bringing her heart back to life? That's what she was doing to me!

My chest constricted and without thinking, without weighing doubts and talking myself out of it I reached out to trace her cheek.

"I am quite speechless," I said honestly.

"A rare occurrence," she smiled and I was hypnotized by her radiant beauty and lashes fluttering like fans over her warm eyes.

"I do not deserve this," I tried to refuse it but she frowned slightly at me.

"You deserve more," she asserted and I could never refuse a gift from my angel, especially not when I was very pleased with the gift. Did I deserve it or her acceptance and trust? Probably not. Did I want it all? Oh, yes.

"Thank you," I said because there was nothing else to say.

"You are very welcome, Erik," my name was like an invitation on the end of her sentence and I traced her cheek again to feel that satiny skin. She tilted her face into my palm, closing her eyes to nuzzle my hand. Desire shot through me like lightning and I wanted to kiss her with a burning intensity.

She obviously cares for you, likes you, enjoys your company and your music, feels safe with you…

She would not feel very safe if I gave in to my depravity so I pulled away when all I wanted was to melt into her. I retreated to my side of the violin and picked up the instrument to try to contain the roil of frantic desires. My mouth was busy saying something about the craftsmanship but it was all secondary. I should have helped her stand, I should have sent her to bed, I should have but I didn't trust myself not to pull her against me and steal her sweet breath with a kiss.

I laid the case on the piano and settled the violin under my chin as I cut a glance at her. The fire was flickering earnestly setting her hair and eyes ablaze. She was still kneeling on the ground as if comfortable there, her skirts like a flower spread open around her. She looked troubled, the tiniest frown furrowing her brow, probably thinking of her precious Papa. I plucked the strings absently, listening to the pitch as I watched her. She was so incredibly beautiful, even more so now that I knew her personally, and I did know her personally. I let my lips curl into a small smile. She was happy here with me and I was happy to have her here, I just had to reign in my desire for her. If I let her grow used to the idea of me, perhaps one day she may learn to feel for me as I do for her. But then would that really be best for her? I grabbed the bow before I drove myself crazy thinking these things. Too many questions lay ahead, I wished I could ask Nadir's advice but I was afraid he would tell me I was unworthy of her. I knew I was but to have someone else tell you point blank, it left no illusions and I was master of illusions.

I drew the bow across the strings, playing a short scale and Christine's eyes flew to me, large, moist and sad like those notes had just torn her heart. I lowered the violin feeling like a heel and she stood quickly.

"Excuse me, Erik," I could see her eyes filling with tears and I wanted to make her happy again, only I didn't know how.

"Is something amiss, Christine?" I tried lamely and her mouth opened, her hands reaching for some hair but no sound came. I raised my eyebrow in encouragement and she looked away.

"It's nothing, Erik, never mind I…" her hands were fastened so tight around her hair that had it been a neck, she would effectively be choking someone. Only I would think such a thought. "I think I'll just go to bed for a little while longer," she didn't raise her eyes at all as she made her way around the couch and I was sure tears were slipping down her face. Damn it!

"Christine," I called sort of desperately when she was at the door to her room. Her head spun around, her curls tossed back, and she had a look on her face that I didn't know what to do with. She looked hopeful even though her face was wet with tears. "Thank you very much for the gift," oh perfect, idiot, bring it up again to really upset her…

"I'm glad you like it," she smiled shyly through her tears and I thought she might say more but she ducked her head and went into her room. I looked at her closed door and had a violent urge to throw something. I put the violin back in its case before I wrecked it.

I decide I want her and she comes to me but I botch it terribly. But why would she come to me if she didn't want me to touch her ever? She gives me her father's violin and I barely thank her properly. I should have kissed her on the cheek or taken her in my arms. Perhaps if I start with tiny steps then things might not seem so overwhelming all the time. But then did she want these deformed lips on her porcelain cheek? Surely not…

I was confused and didn't know which way was up anymore. What was I supposed to do with her?

---

Christine

---

I dried my tears and rolled over in bed for the hundredth time. Hearing Papa's violin had undone me. I'm sure any single violin could have done the job but knowing it was Papa's and having Erik play it…

I sighed as my mind filled with Erik. He was always so sweet to me, even worrying outrageously when I disappeared to get the violin from the closet. I flopped into a new position, not sleepy at all but wanting to think.

I felt like I didn't know anything about men and it was very probably true. I'd thought if I gave him the violin he would know how important he is to me. I'd thought for a moment that he did know, when he looked at me and touched my face, but he'd pulled away and I didn't know what else I could do to make him notice me.

I growled in frustration. How could he not know I cared for him? Did he think I would hold another man's hand? No, he couldn't. Did he think I would give anyone else this kind of gift?

I took a deep breath. I didn't have the courage to tell him how I felt. What if he was only helping me out of kindness' sake or pity's sake. What if he only saw me as a wandering child, lost and helpless? He called me child before he knew my name, but he couldn't be so much older then me. But then I did feel like a child around him. When he smiled it made me blush, when he sang I was entranced, and when he touched me my entire body quaked with emotion. He was this mystical phantom, alluring and enchanting and I wanted to know everything about him, his thoughts and dreams and desires…

How could I captivate the man that captivated me so thoroughly? How could I turn his head and get him to see me in a different light? I wasn't just a little girl needing security; I was a woman who wanted him in my life. Maybe acting like a proper lady wouldn't work. Maybe I would have to do some of the things Meg and Julie talked about to get his attention.

I tossed aside the covers and rose to go look in the closet. Maybe if I showed more bosom it would attract his notice. I flipped through the dresses absently, thinking about the only person I ever seemed to think of anymore. Erik. What could I do to win him? What can a naive child do to get the phantom's attention? How can a simple girl like me captivate someone as intelligent as Erik? The only thing I could think of was my earlier idea to shoo him out of the kitchen as I'd done to Papa when I was twelve. I could cook for him and take care of him for a change to show him I was more than just a child.

I stopped on a light green dress with pretty embroidery done in gold. How much money did he spend on me? I shook my head baffled. He would give me anything, do anything for me and expected nothing from me? He must want something...

I moved into the washroom to get ready for the day. I would take care of him.

I hoped he had the ingredients I needed for breakfast.


	17. Unmasked

---

Erik

---

I stepped out of the bath and dried myself off. I replaced the mask mechanically even though my brow was tender and stopped. What if I did leave it off? Would she pale at the sight of my face? Was it cruel of me to try to prove her kind words wrong? I was hideous. She knew it but was too good a person to ever say anything. Did I really want to prove her wrong?

It was too early for these thoughts and I was into my second day without sleep. Deep thoughts required mental alertness and the combination of deciphering Christine and resisting her while caring for her on little rest had zapped any recuperation I'd gleaned from my sleep on Thursday. I dressed quickly thinking of coffee and grabbed one of my embroidered waistcoats. It was dark royal blue with black leaves sewn sporadically on the fabric. Black ascot and the outfit was finished. I tucked the tie neatly into the vest and smoothed a hand down my stomach. Perhaps if I ate this morning it would help keep me from fatiguing. I attached my watch to the pocket and slid it in place as I opened the door.

The sound of rustling skirts froze me in place. She was up already? And puttering in the kitchen no less. Visions of domesticated bliss danced through my head. I checked my clothes though they needed no final check and then ran a hand over my hair suddenly nervous.

I had to do a better job at being supportive. I couldn't let her tears scare me. Next time she brought up Papa I would give her a handkerchief and let her cry on my shoulder. I turned back into my room to fetch a handkerchief to keep in my pocket recalling last night when she leaned on my shoulder. Maybe I would just pat her hand.

I came around the corner quietly to see her peering into a pot as she stirred it. She had an apron, that must be hers, tied over one of the dresses. I recognized the light green material and remembered choosing it because of the golden butterflies that were sewn haphazardly up the skirt. They appeared to burst up from the ground and it reminded me of the second mask she'd worn at the Masquerade. Her hair was unbound and sprawling down her back, beckoning to me. Touch me, it called. It was the most beautiful hair, curly and long, wild and changing with her every move, a mass of light and shadow that called for my touch.

Was it the light I was drawn to? Cleanse me oh Goddess of golden light.

Was it the shadow that seduced me? Come fairy and join me in my darkness.

I ground my teeth. Listen to me. I'm losing my mind over her.

I cleared my throat into my hand and she spun around. The hair had been pinned back from her face so there was no mistaking the brilliant joy that broke over her face.

"Good morning, Erik." I inclined my head and bowed politely.

"Good morning, Christine. You are up quite early?" I started towards her slowly, timid to get too close when scant hours ago I kissed her hand and imagined much more.

She bit her lip and glanced at her apron, smoothing it down carefully. "I wanted to make you breakfast," her voice was small but so sweet. "I hope that is okay?" her resolve wavered at my stare and one hand snaked up to cling to her hair.

"You needn't cook for me," now that sounded ungrateful, "But I am honored that you want to." That was better and true too. I didn't need a housemaid; I'd long since learned to take care of myself. What I needed and wanted from her was a little more difficult to obtain and impossible to ask for. She smiled and turned back to her pot as I moved around her to prepare the coffee. She'd already put on the water so all I had to do was use the press. Within a few minutes I had a steaming cup of rejuvenation in my hands and was able to watch as she added milk into the pot stirring constantly.

A warm homey smell was permeating my kitchen and she moved effortlessly fetching some butter to add to the pot and returning it like she knew where everything was already. Domesticated bliss indeed.

"Would you like some coffee?" I offered but she shook her head.

"Not now thank you," she opened the cupboard to fetch the lid for the pot she was using and I didn't even have to tell her where it was.

"And what have you concocted?" I asked curiously. I'd thought it to be oatmeal but didn't you add the milk and butter after it was cooked? Could she cook?

"It's like porridge but much better," she grinned easily and turned to remove the apron. I watched her undo the laces as she spoke. "It has to simmer for awhile, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting you up so early." She pulled the apron over her head and I pulled out my watch to stop staring at her as she removed clothing. My face felt warm as I checked the time. "Are we going somewhere today, Erik?"

I snapped my watch closed and tucked it away, looking up at her. She was standing by the table, her apron draped over a chair and the dress hit me like a hammer between the eyes. If I wasn't leaning against the counter I might have stumbled back.

I hadn't noticed the pretty dress was so low-cut. The scooped neckline revealed her delicate collarbones down to the satiny mounds of her high breasts. I reached back in my brain trying to remember what she just asked me but I was working with less blood so it was not an easy task.

"Out?" I managed dumbly and she nodded quickly. "I hadn't planned… of course if you would like to…" I gestured feebly rambling like a dim-witted fool. "We can go anywhere you please," okay someone check my brain I think it is leaking out my ears to search for oxygen.

"No… I just," her brows came down in the most adorable expression of concentration. "I don't wish to go anywhere but where ever it is you wish to take me," she pressed her hands to her stomach. "I thought we were going somewhere because you checked your watch and you are all dressed up," it was her turn to wave towards me and I looked down at my clothing. "Do you always dress so regally?"

Regal? ME?

I shrugged and stared at the ground in front of her. "I have a profound weakness for well made clothing." I wanted to tell her to go change but then that would be admitting to her that her breasts make me uncomfortable. The situation was almost laughable. I buy her all the clothing and then would rather she wear her old sad dresses. At least they didn't make her look so enticingly edible.

"Well, you look very handsome, Erik" she said quietly and I looked up at her bowed head. Did she just say handsome? Was my mouth hanging open? I snapped it shut and then wanted to laugh.

"I can safely say that I've never been described in quite that manner before," there was laughter in my voice and she looked up swiftly and blushed as she looked away again.

"Perhaps no one has taken the time to look close enough," her voice was deadly serious and I sobered immediately. She must care for me to defend me so honorably from myself. Maybe we had it wrong and she was my guardian angel.

Tenderness filled me at her words. Could she really think I was handsome? Wanting to apologize without bringing it up I put down my empty cup and moved to her, holding out one hand.

"Would you like to come watch the sun rise?" her warm eyes lifted to mine and she smiled.

"I would love to."

I took her up my private staircase to the roof holding her hand almost the entire way. I couldn't help looking back at her every few minutes as we made our way shrouded in silence and dark. She was afraid of the dark so I brought a lantern to light the way. I smiled remembering the way she'd burst from her room as if the darkness was chasing her. My good humor left me. The darkness was chasing her. I was surely the darkest being to walk this earth and it only made sense for her to be frightened of me.

I should leave her and let her be before I had another outburst. I couldn't control the anger inside me and knew someday I would explode and it would scare her away. I wouldn't be able to give her the illusion of safety forever, my control was not so flawless. Eventually I would snap and just wrap myself around her to nibble on those collarbones and bury my face in her hair. She made me feel such a sea of new emotions that at some point I would have to learn to swim or drown trying. What would she do when I finally had enough and dove in?

We came out onto the roof top and the sky was still dark enough that some stars shone brightly opposite the growing light in the sky.

"Perfect timing," I said under my breath as I led her across the roof. She quickened her step and caught the crook of my elbow with her hand to slow my step.

"Are you always in a hurry?" she laughed at me and my lips twitched.

"Time can never be gained back," I replied practically. "But I shall endeavor to slow down so you may enjoy this," I swept my arm out over the view of Paris as if it was mine to brag over and Christine followed my gesture with her eyes.

"Oh," she breathed out and let go of me to walk to the edge. "It's beautiful," the sky spread out in a multitude of dark blue grey colors lined with wisps of cloud. She leaned over the edge, one foot coming off the ground and fear ripped through me as I'd never felt. Fear of losing her over that edge.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back unceremoniously. She made a startled noise as she slammed into my chest and then looked up at me over her shoulder.

"Keep away from the ledge," my voice gruff and my fingers biting into her flesh. She patted my hand reassuringly or maybe to get me to let go but whatever she saw on my face, quelled the surprise on hers.

"I won't go near it," she assured me and her hand stayed on mine, rubbing my knuckles as if to soothe me and I was soothed. I relaxed and glided my hands down to her elbows and back up, making sure she was really here and whole. Her body rippled at my casual caress and I immediately wanted to pull away thinking it was my touch that made her shiver but it was November twenty seventh and blustery. For once I thought of something rational and bent slightly to her ear.

"Are you cold, my dear?"

"I'll be fine," she said quietly as another ripple shuddered her body against mine. Was she so frightened of my touch or was it any man's touch or was it merely the cold? For some reason being out here with her in the growing daylight made me feel reckless and I decided to test her.

If she was cold she would allow my touch to warm her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, to share my warmth with her. I moved closer, waiting for any sign that she was not compliant, but suddenly as if it was the easiest thing in the world, she leaned back against me and my arms encircled her waist. My cloak followed suit, settling around us both to provide a cocoon of our joined warmth. She sighed quietly and I felt at peace. The sun began to fill the sky, everything still and silent for us, like we were the only people in the world up to watch the miracle.

How easy it was to imagine that I'd found someone to share the rest of my life with, to share ideas and music, thoughts, laughter, tears and warmth, what little I had to share. I breathed deeply catching a faint scent of roses from her hair. I felt invigorated, freshly made, weights lifted that I hadn't known were holding me down. She enjoyed my company. She enjoyed me. All I had left to hope for was that she could love me.

How easy it was to imagine that she did as I held her close, sharing warmth and the spectacular view. I did deserve her. All the pain and turmoil I'd endured was my payment to have her by my side now and I would pay it all again if it meant I could keep her with me forever. I'd finally found someone good, something worth living for. The flood of happiness she filled me with made me cling to her a little harder. I was drowning in the unknown waters. Would she hold my hand and help me to the other shore?

---

Christine

---

The sky was busy lightening very prettily but I was immensely distracted by the pulse of Erik's body behind me. His arms were so protective and strong that I felt as relaxed here as I did anywhere with him. He was quiet, subdued in thought and I reveled in the feel of him holding me. I wanted to slide my back against his chest but suppressed that urge. He would think me wanton surely if I squirmed in delight at the feel of him. Did he think me wanton already? I was a dancer after all.

I bit my lip thinking of this morning's exchange. Did he notice the dress? Did he like it? He'd seemed distracted after checking the time and I thought he was going to finally take me to meet Nadir because he'd been wearing such fancy clothes but alas. I was not important enough to introduce to Nadir but then his face when he'd pulled me back from the ledge…

Erik's breath feathered in my ear and down my neck and I wanted to turn into his embrace to press myself to him. The desire was so strong that I grabbed my skirts frightened by the wave of unladylike thoughts. What was I doing thinking of these things? Kisses and caresses were things I knew nothing about but the desire to do both ran through me as he held me in his arms. I shuddered gently and Erik spoke softly in my ear again.

"If you are cold we can return," I was glad he thought me cold rather than knowing what was in my mind. I reached up and held his arms against me tightly.

"Let's stay just a little longer," I forced my mind into other avenues. It would be my birthday tomorrow and it would pass without any notice. I thought of Papa's smiling face and tears collected in my throat.

"I was here when Papa died," I spoke needing to voice my pain and it was easier to retain my train of thought while not looking at him. Looking at him always distracted me. "Not here exactly but," I swallowed clarifying, "I was visiting the opera house to see the stage and the magnificent building…he was too ill to come with me." My brow furrowed thinking of his last days, the constant coughing and clammy skin, the spiraling illness that had attacked him and the darkness that had consumed me upon the discovery of his body. His still quiet body…

I turned in Erik's arms and buried my face in his chest. I clutched at his coat as the sobs choked me. "I d-didn't even g-get to say goodbye," I stuttered shaking in his tight embrace. I succeeded in changing my train of thought but my sobs quieted as I realized I'd turned into his embrace anyway. My breath slowed as I felt his body relax and he rested his head on mine as he sighed.

"You said goodbye to him up here with your song," his voice sympathetic and soothing. I pushed back startled to stare up into his eyes glittering like crystal in the sunlight. The mask gleamed brightly and his hair that I'd mistaken for black was actually deep dark brown, the chocolate strands rich in the unforgiving light. "I was here that night," he answered my unasked question softly. He sounded apologetic but my mind couldn't comprehend. I'd sung and cried and fallen to my knees in despair, so afraid that I laughed as thoughts scattered on the wind and he'd watched me and then left me a cloak for consolation? My face fell as I looked at him and he traced my cheek with one gloved hand.

"I could not comfort you then anyway," he sounded so sad, as if I would have run from his comforting hand. His thumb smeared some of the tears on my cheek while he afforded me another small glimpse of the man beneath the stoic front. He was so lonely and so sure that for him there could be nothing else. Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks but they were for Erik and not for my father. This incredibly complex, entirely entertaining, uniquely handsome man had my heart and didn't know it.

He caught the tears as they fell, letting them soak into the fingertips of his gloves as he touched them on their trail down my face. When he lifted his eyes to look at me again I imagined I could see love in his sad eyes.

"You are here to comfort me now," I whispered unable and unwilling to contain the swell of emotion I felt for him.

"That I am," his fingers traced the curve of my ear and slid under my chin to lift it higher until our mouths were so close that my knees felt weak. My eyes fluttered shut and I grabbed at his clothing to steady myself. His nose touched mine and his lips brushed mine tentatively and the door at the far side of the roof clanged open.

Erik tensed like someone had struck him and he pulled away from me abruptly. The voices of a man and woman raised in flirtation carried to us as we stood perfectly still, two feet apart staring at each other. I was afraid to move because he was vibrating and scowling. It wasn't anger that I could feel but I could feel some strong emotions surging through him just as surely as I felt the icy wind at my back. I felt like prey paralyzed with fear by the hunter, entranced by the rattlesnakes tail I stood frozen. I could see the couple moving in the other direction and felt relief. Why did I fear discovery? Was it because I was ashamed of my actions? Was it because I didn't know what Erik would do? Would he kill the couple? I swallowed hard.

"They went the other way," my voice was hoarse and I was ashamed. Not for the way I acted but for thinking Erik could cold bloodedly kill someone. The shame cured me of my fear and I closed the distance he'd put between us, reaching for him once more. As my hand touched his, his eyes flashed like a wild storm and he whipped around pulling me in his wake.

"We must return," he commanded, strung so tight that he was hurting my hand. I couldn't say the word to make him stop because I feared his reaction if he knew he was hurting me. I wanted to start crying again. He had almost kissed me and now my stomach was twisting with worry that he could hurt me and not even realize it. He would never purposely hurt me but he was just afraid…Afraid? Not Erik. But then what? He was so ridiculously tense that I knew one out of place noise would send him further into this coiled frustration.

But there would be no one to make an out of place noise in this staircase. They existed solely for his use. I looked at the mortared walls and the chiseled stairs and could barely imagine the countless hours that must have gone into making all his passages. He had planned to move un noticed and un wanted through this building of music, un seen for the rest of his life.

What had changed his mind? I looked at the back of his head as he moved ahead of me like a quiet cat stalking his territory, a shadow that only existed in my mind.

Was it me?

---

Erik

---

She went straight to the kitchen after removing her outerwear. I was restless with adrenaline and hid in my room for a few minutes to pace. She wanted more from me.

I am not under the illusion that I am so seductively charming that any woman would swoon into my arms but Christine did. She wanted me to kiss her, there was no mistaking the way her eyes had fluttered closed and the way she clutched at my lapels. But I still hadn't even taken the mask off. I wanted to but when we returned I felt so exposed that I couldn't muster the courage to do it.

I slunk back into the living area and glanced at her in the kitchen. She had her apron on again but I knew what it was covering up and I dragged my hands through my hair agitatedly. I moved to the fire as I remembered her eyes closing in submission to my kiss a little smile curving her mouth. I growled low in my throat. I'd wanted to run and hide when we'd been discovered on the roof but Christine had touched me in the midst of that adrenaline rush and I'd wanted her right there, right then. She had no idea I was still entertaining thoughts of pressing her against the nearest wall and eating my way down her neck.

I flopped down into my chair muttering to myself. I had the perfect opportunity to kiss her and those blasted people had to ruin it. They casually barged in and trashed my peace of mind and my confidence with the opening of one door. I flicked a speck off my knee wondering if Christine would have stood beside me had they come our way.

Damn the human race! Always cutting me down and stringing me up…

"Erik?" her timid entreaty broke through my thoughts and I stood with alacrity. She was standing at the couch with her hand out towards me. "Come have breakfast with me."

My insides were still coiled up with unused adrenaline and I was not in the mood to eat but having her reach out to me did something to soften my tension. She was here with me, caring for me, reaching for me.

I bowed to her, giving her all the courtesy and respect I could with one movement and said softly, "I would be honored."

Breakfast was mostly silent and I wondered if Christine was thinking about our almost kiss as much as I was. I wanted to just grab her and finish it but I wanted the moment to be perfect so I sat and ate the breakfast she made instead of tossing aside the table, dishes and all, and taking her in my arms.

I did compliment her cooking, she made a porridge consisting of rice cooked in milk and it reminded me of Indian rice pudding though it was less sweet and more suited to my palate. Our meal thus seen to we stood to clear the table and I turned to the basin with my dishes when she touched me lightly on the wrist.

"I can do that, Erik," she neatly plucked the dishes from my hands and once again I was left shuffling my feet like a fool. What was this power she had over me, to make me lose my wits with a touch or word? Hypnotized and paralyzed.

Immobilized by the thought of you…

My hands were suddenly itching for paper as words began to swirl in my head but I couldn't just leave Christine to clean up could I?

I looked at my desk and then back at Christine. "Would you like to have a lesson when you are finished?"

She glanced at me with a smile as she washed, "That would be marvelous."

"Very well." I strode to my desk and lit the lamp, eager to get these words down on paper.

---

Christine

---

I watched him walk to his desk and noticed how tense he still was. I sighed quietly and turned back to the dishes. I wondered if now that he'd tried to kiss me if that left it open for me to kiss him. If I kept waiting for him I would be an old woman before we discovered anything about each other. A small smile curled my lips as I remembered how his fingers had lifted my chin and his tender eyes had searched my face.

He was the first man to ever kiss me and I couldn't help wishing that he would be the last man to ever kiss me. But he was a genius and judging from this morning, did not like to be around other people. I couldn't ask him to undo the whole world he'd built for himself because I was obsessed with him. As strongly as I felt for him, I would have to let him pursue this at his pace. Besides, it wasn't the woman that decided anything, the father or the man decided her fate and she either complied or not. And now that I knew he would eventually reveal his feelings I was willing to wait for it a little while longer.

I turned to remove my apron and watched Erik's shoulders moving as he wrote at his desk. He was always so tense and proper that I couldn't imagine him ever professing love for me on bended knee.

I walked out to the piano and Erik turned with purpose.

"Ready?" he cocked an eyebrow at me and I thought he looked a little more relaxed.

"Ready," I smiled excited to sing with the piano again.

The lesson was like magic. With all we were learning about each other and the tightening of our bonds, he was still the same stern instructor and took me through the paces rigidly. The magic came when we moved on to the songs we were practicing. He reminded me to just let go of myself and when he began to play I threw myself to the mercy of the music. Our eyes locked and I sang for Erik, everything I couldn't say out loud I said with my eyes as I sang song after song until finally Erik stopped us.

"You have learned much," he murmured, his eyes burning into mine.

"You have taught me much," I gave him the compliment back and the clock struck the hour with its soft chiming. Erik looked startled and checked his pocket watch.

"Forgive me, Christine, I have some work I need to attend to today," he looked at me and then stood with purpose and I scrambled to say something.

"What time would you like your tea?" he looked surprised but answered quickly.

"One o'clock."

He set to work at his desk, writing what appeared to be letters but I wasn't sure because I did not stand over him to find out. I busied myself tidying up my room and fixing my hair into a more intricate style, braiding some small braids down the sides and pining them into designs around my head so it looked like I had a woven crown of braids. I sat by the fire and read more of Romeo and Juliet and also pretended to read for awhile so I could shamelessly stare at Erik.

I kept thinking of how it felt to be in his arms, butterflies in my stomach and only submission in my mind. If he had been able to complete our kiss would it have been like our first passionate embrace or would it have been something softer and more in keeping with the emotions of this morning.

I tried to remember what Meg and Julie said about kissing but the thought of Julie made me think of Raoul. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling, his mouth on mine had been rough and awful and even though Erik was also rough with me the first time it wasn't the same. I couldn't figure that out but assumed it meant that I loved Erik. He could kiss me roughly or softly and it would all please me.

Of course now that I thought of Erik being rough I was thinking of this morning again and the way he dragged me across the roof. I don't think he even remembered that or he would have apologized for it. If I was being honest with myself it worried and scared me that he could hurt me without meaning to. Could he do something even worse and not even realize it until it was too late? I studied his lean back and his mussed hair, not in total disarray but mussed by his standards. Could he really hurt me?

I noticed it was close to tea time and I proceeded into the kitchen glad that I'd had the foresight to plan some type of activity to bring us together again. I was willing to give him time but I was planning to push him a little.

---

Erik

---

I heard the chime of dishes behind me and glanced to see Christine setting the tea tray by the fire. She bent over slightly and I turned back to my desk to catch my breath.

It is obvious you desire her so go over there and do something about it. Maybe start by taking off this childish mask so it won't get in the way.

In the way…surely if she would allow me to kiss her with it on she would let me with it off. Only one way to find out. I stood with far more confidence that things were going to go perfectly this time.

The fire was winking off the weaves in her hair, if I imagined her a fairy maid before then she was the queen now. Thankfully some of her curls were blocking the view of her décolletage and I wasn't about to complain because it made it easier for me to think and I loved her hair anyway. The long color changing curls, I longed to wrap my fingers in that hair and…first things first Erik.

"Lovely," I called as I approached, not sure if I was speaking about her or to her.

She looked up and then back at the tea she was pouring as she laughed.

"I don't know if I'd describe it that generously," she handed me my cup as she dropped the lemon slice me. "I suppose if one was dying of thirst then it could be quite lovely."

I blinked at her stupidly. How could she not know I was speaking of her? I searched her face for signs of coquetry but she was innocence itself. She frowned at the cup in my hand. I hadn't moved to sit yet and I suppose she thought something was wrong.

"Did you not want lemon?" she reached for the cup. "I'm sorry I assumed you always take it the same way. I'll just…"

"Christine," I always enjoyed saying her name, sometimes I wish it was longer so it could roll off my tongue forever. I bent and put the cup down as I took her outstretched hands in mine. Her eyes were fixed on my face and I wished I had taken the mask off earlier. I let my eyes travel over her face as she watched me take in her beauty. I traced the arched brows over her large golden eyes, the sweep of her porcelain cheek, the pink bow of her mouth…

"I was speaking about you," I lifted one hand to my mouth and kissed it while our eyes stayed locked. Her cheeks infused with pink and her gaze dropped demurely. "But suddenly lovely doesn't seem a strong enough word…" her cheeks turned red and she took back one of her hands to place it on her burning cheek. This was just too much fun.

"Erik, you undo me with your flattery." I undo her? If that was my intention I would be using my hands to undo…

I let her go to put the teacup back in my hands. Hot tea would keep me from those thoughts for now.

"That was not my intention, darling. I only meant to flatter you, not fluster you." I knew I was teasing her but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Knowing she would let me kiss her was making me reckless with my words. Seeing the slice of lemon in my cup reminded me of her recent confusion. "And I always take lemon in my tea." I raised the cup to her and took a sip. This was how to act. Indulgent, adoring, intelligent and mannerly, finally I was learning how to behave around her.

---

Christine

---

I stood still for a moment to gather my wits after Erik sat down. He made my heart race and my breath come so short and when he complimented me I thought I would burn to ashes my cheeks were so hot.

"And I always take lemon in my tea," he gestured with the cup and I regained my senses at the sound of his voice. I retrieved my own cup and sat beside him.

"I wasn't sure for a moment," I sounded so timid and I sipped my tea for fortification. "Is it a Persian custom?" that was better.

"Russian actually," he inhaled over the cup and sighed. "Both Russia and Persia have wonderful tea traditions."

"Have you been to Russia?"

"Yes," his brow furrowed slightly and I decided not to ask anymore about Russia.

"You've travelled quite a lot haven't you?"

"All over Europe and Asia," he turned towards me to ease conversation and balanced the cup on his knee.

"What lured you back to France?" his eyes tightened and I wanted to snatch back my question. "Oh Erik, I know better than to just let my tongue flap like that, asking personal questions, just forget I even spoke, just forget I even sat down," I put my cup on the tray with the intention of leaving him alone to enjoy his tea in peace, without my idiotic questions bringing up a past that pains him.

"Stop," his voice rang with command and I pulled my hands from the tray, back into my lap, my heart thumping with embarrassment. He was looking at me quizzically with one eyebrow raised, "Do you believe I've ever had the pleasure of a lady's company before you?" The way he asked made it clear that he never had and I shook my head silently. "Do you believe that I hold to the adage 'women are to be seen and not heard'?" I looked down at my hands feeling terribly foolish.

"No Erik."

"Do you believe then, when I say that I cherish every word that you speak to me?" I stared down at my lap. What do you say to that? Every word? "Ask me anything you like, I'm only afraid you may not like my answers," he raised his cup to take a drink and I took that to mean he was done and leapt to my feet in a rustle of the fine skirts.

"I shouldn't be prying, Erik. It's horribly unladylike and terribly bad mannered. I'm afraid I'm just so used to being indulged by my father and it was awful of him to allow it because now I never know when to keep my mouth shut and I just can't stop talking when I know it's the one thing that I should be doing…" my voice disappeared at the look on Erik's face.

"Christine," his voice was gentle, "You were raised to ask questions, there is nothing shameful in that."

"I don't want to cause you pain," I finished lamely looking at my toes.

He sighed, "If you had not been taught to do exactly as you are doing right now then you would not feel safe enough to be here with me," his words were crisp, like he was lecturing to me. I was shocked; of course I would feel safe with him.

"No," I started but his hand flicked out to stop me.

"Yes," he nodded gravely, "It is your inquisitive nature that allowed you to become," he paused and made a small gesture with one hand, "friends with me when you did not even know my face. Any other girl would have run screaming from a masked gentleman offering a handkerchief." He seemed to be reprimanding me for not being one of those girls. "Even now when you know much more you stay here, feeling safe, because you question…everything. Besides, I really would not like to remind you again that you asked for questions to be free between us, or does it only apply one way?" his eyebrow went up and I saw that my behavior was amusing him. I was so happy to see that gleam in his eye that I didn't even care that he was laughing at me. I was acting childishly; a lady would never question herself so much.

Maybe if I stopped acting like a ninny we could continue our conversation, a little closer. I brushed the hair back from my shoulders and sat down right next to him on the couch and smiled at him.

"So, what was your question again?" he asked breathily and sitting this close to him I suddenly didn't want to talk anymore. I gathered my meager courage and put my hand on his thigh. I looked down as Erik tensed and marveled at how intimate it was to touch someone's leg like this. I squeezed lightly and Erik made a strangled noise.

I hastily took my hand back with a breathy, "Did I hurt you?"

He was looking at me rather funny and I searched his face in earnest looking for ill. He laughed suddenly, shaking his head and leaned past me to put down his tea cup.

"You have not hurt me," he turned towards me on the couch and silently lifted one hand towards his face and then it dropped back down to grasp his knee.

I mentally was clapping my hands, was he finally ready?

"You make me feel as though I need not wear my mask when I'm with you. I would remove it but you are the one who would have to look at it so I would like to leave it up to you." I smiled.

"Take it off," I encouraged with surety. He looked up, his sad grey eyes brimming with hope.

"You are certain?"

This being no time to waffle I nodded once and repeated, "Take it off," even though I wasn't sure I could handle it. I wasn't sure that I wouldn't stare and want to poke at it. I watched him reach up and pop it off his face, knowing that I'd sort of miss the mask. As he lowered it I followed the familiar white face down into his lap. It lended him an air of mystery that I couldn't deny I enjoyed. But what overshadowed it was my desire for him to trust me. I wanted to see his face bare of all his masks but I was still a little nervous to look.

"I should have taken it off sooner," he sounded ashamed in himself and I hastened to reassure him as we both stared at the mask.

"It's your home, Erik, you should do as you like," I tentatively brushed my fingers over his knee. "I want nothing more than for you to be happy," only I wanted so much more. He wasn't looking at the mask anymore because I could feel his eyes on me. He slowly put aside the mask and traced the back of my hand with one fingertip.

"Nothing more?" he asked softly as if he could read my mind.

Time slowed into the space between two breaths where everything tips on its side and can change if you let it. I had to look into his unmasked face and tell him I wanted more from him. My chest was tight as I met his eyes, he was asking me outright, did I want more?

His eyes searched my face as mine took in his. A pressure mark crossed his nose and forehead where the mask pressed too hard. There was a reddened patch of skin on his brow that made me want to say to never put that mask on again but I wasn't done exploring his face. His newly uncovered cheekbone was sharply angled, the flesh below torn and bruise like in colors. His lips pink and perfect, the same as under the edge of the mask but the hidden side stretched out as if the corner of his mouth was tugged outward, setting off the symmetry of his lips. It looked like half his face had been stripped away, I could almost make out four evenly spaced lines that tore his lip into the mess of his non cheek. It was as if his teeth and bone were so very close to the surface, so painfully vulnerable that I wanted to cover it with my hand to protect him, cover it with kisses to tell him it was okay.

His eyes dropped and I realized I had looked for too long. I slid next to him hugging his arm because it was all I could get my arms around.

"Erik," my voice came husky and I felt the blood heat my cheeks. What should I say? I looked at the side of his face that I knew so well and was struck by the realization that I thought he was handsome. With the mask off I was still attracted to him with a force that even my inexperience couldn't argue with.

He looked at me again and my heart danced in my throat at the look in his eyes. His eyes flicked to my mouth and my lips parted wantonly.

"May I…" his brow furrowed at me and my chest rose and fell with my rapid heart. "May I …," he started again, his eyes still on my mouth but he couldn't voice his question. Was he asking to kiss me? I leaned into him and craned up to his lips deliriously.

"Do I dream?" he said with wonder in his voice and I wanted him to know this meant a lot to me too.

"If this be a dream let me never wake from it," I whispered into the sliver of air between us. His hand rose to my face and he laughed seductively as his fingertips grazed my cheek. His laugh seemed to pull a response from my body and I shuddered with pleasure at the roll of his joy.

His hand cupped my jaw but stopped there so I turned to kiss it once. I wanted him to sweep his graceful hands over my skin, through my hair, use them to hold me tightly, gently, hard or soft, I wanted to be closer, closer than just touching him. So close.

---

Erik

---

I knew it was not a dream because in my dream she would not shudder at my touch.

Maybe I should just stop touching her face when her eyes were closed.

It hurt my heart to see her try so hard to accept me. Was she doing this because she thought I would require some form of payment for my kindness? Why otherwise would she offer her lips to me when she could have so much better?

My face felt very naked when she looked at me again, especially since I wasn't really sure what it was that she saw. I hadn't looked in a mirror in years. I could see the confusion on her face but all I was thinking was how good she smelled and how I wanted to feel her body next to mine still. Even when I knew it sent horror through her to be so close to me.

"Have you been reading Shakespeare today?" I asked because her wording had made a uncharacteristic laugh bubble out of me. She made me feel so good and I was so selfish that I just wanted more and more of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," she said softly, her eyes seemed heavy in this light, they pinned me to the seat and I could almost forget that she shivered. Almost. I let my hand trail through some of her curls and tried to make some conversation.

"Do you like it so far?"

"Of course, it's a love story," she was still gazing at me and now a small smile was curving her lips. Suddenly she shivered lightly and brushed at her arms.

"Are you cold?" I glanced at the fire, which I'd neglected slightly. "I can…"

Christine's hand pressed lightly on my chest to keep me from standing and I found her soft touch could hold me very still indeed. "No need for that…" her eyes stayed lowered as she moved my arm behind her and slid next to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and slipped her arms around me. "I like to be held…" she breathed on my neck and my eyelids fluttered at the sensations. She was seducing me. Perhaps she didn't realize she was doing it. Perhaps she didn't realize how crazy her touch made me feel, how out of control. She trailed her fingers down over the knot of my cravat and I couldn't breathe for a moment.

I wanted to hold her close to me but it felt so wrong to get exactly what I wanted. Guilt rose as my hand rose to cup her shoulder. I made sure to keep my hand on the fabric of the fitted sleeve. She began tracing the leaves on my vest and I had to close my eyes.

Touch me again oh Goddess of light and let me worship you.

She sighed and her body relaxed against me. She was soft and warm and seemed to fit against my side like a missing part of my own body, truly like Adam and his missing rib. It felt amazing to have her so close to me, my lips kept twitching, wanting to smile, wanting to give this wonderous feeling somewhere to go. It filled me like wind in a sail, blustery and full, a pressure against my chest. I suddenly realized my hand had risen and was stroking the hair behind her ear and down the side of her neck and put a stop to its wanderings.

"Are you warmer?" I asked quietly, not forgetting her chill.

"Yes," she moved against me, adjusting herself even more perfectly against my collarbone, her arms moving to hold me loosely. She sighed in contentment and I couldn't help but agree with her. This was marvelous.

For the first ten or so minutes and then I began to get tense. I was trying not to move at all which should have been easy for me but something about her weight pressing me on began to agitate me. She was all that was good and light and my desire for her was part of the darkness inside me. If it rose in me I didn't know what I would do to her. Taste her, touch her, devour her innocence in one self satisfying swallow. My muscles started twitching and I couldn't understand how she could stay so relaxed when I felt half crazed.

"May I ask you something, Erik?"

"Of course, dear," I answered easily enough staring at the dying fire.

"When we met at the Masquerade you said that laughter was dangerous."

"I said that emotion can be dangerous."

"But laughter is good."

"Not all laughter, my dear." I thought of my memories of the gypsy camp and Christine tightened her grip around me wordlessly, as if she could sense my pain. After a few moments she sat up a little so she could look at me.

"So what did lure you back to France?" this question again and I suppose I would have to answer it truthfully.

"Anonymity," was my short answer but Christine would never be satisfied with so little. "The tale of my talents had spread beyond the borders of Persia but not so far as France. I could blend more easily here and disappear without a trace." She went still next to me.

"Talents?" she breathed out but by her face I knew she didn't need further explanation.

How did I always mange to ruin a good thing? Two minutes ago she'd been curled against me seeking warmth and comfort and now I'd reminded her of my killing hands. No better way to chase away a woman, than bringing up all the people you've killed. Brilliant.

She sat back and I let her go. She studied her hands and I didn't know what she was doing until I saw the drops falling onto her skirts. Was she crying because I wasn't letting her be disillusioned?

"It doesn't matter what I say, I end up causing you pain." My mouth dropped open, she was more concerned with that? I sat up and lifted her chin to see her eyes full of tears and overflowing.

"Do not cry for me," I ordered quietly.

"Why not? You've endured so much pain and I want...do you have any happy memories?"

I smiled to soothe her and picked up a lock of her hair, "A few," I murmured as the curl slid silkily from my fingers.

"I want you to have more than just a few," she whispered and then sniffed delicately. I remembered the handkerchief and pulled it out for her.

"Please do not waste your tears on me," I handed her the cloth and she dabbed at her face looking at me with such tenderness that I felt privileged.

"I cry over the silliest things, crying for you is not a waste, crying about Carlotta is a waste," she finished drying her face and took a deep breath but a question was brewing inside me. What had La Carlotta done to cause her tears?

"Any crying over that fat cow, who cannot keep on key is definitely a waste," I wanted to demand all the details but Christine looked surprised.

"Oh but she's marvelous, Erik." I had a horrified look on my face.

"About as marvelous as an ear ache!" I continued adamantly, "You are marvelous, _she_," scorn dripped, "I can do without." Christine giggled at my unwavering loyalty.

"Well, I think she's marvelous," she pushed me playfully and began folding the handkerchief between her fingers thoughtfully.

"Is Nadir important to you?" she asked suddenly and I stared at her for a moment wondering where this was going.

"He is. It takes a special person to trust a man in a mask," I let her see in my eyes that I meant her as well. She smiled and reached out to touch said mask and her fingers trailed over my naked disfigured cheek, like a lightning bolt straight down my spine, I remembered I didn't have it on. My hands clenched against my knees as I met her gaze with wild eyes. And yet she still looked at me like this.

"You aren't wearing a mask, Erik," the smile suggested she was happy of that fact and her eyes shone with her golden light. Her hand lingered on my jaw and I decided I would grab her and kiss her right now and damn the consequences but the clock struck two and I was saved from making an ass of myself.

Christine looked at the clock surprised and then stood smoothing down her skirts.

"I'm sorry to keep you from your work. Time always seems to move so strangely down here," she started setting everything back on the tray and I stood up, stretching out the kinks in my tensed muscles.

"Time loses its meaning when the world is endlessly dark," well wasn't that nice and pathetic sounding. I don't know what possessed me to say that. I was so damn depressing. Was I truly trying to scare her away now? Did I at some point decide that I no longer wanted her? Idiot. Imbecile. Stupid.

We both stayed silent as we cleaned up the tea together, I didn't want her having to wait on me hand and foot. She washed and I dried and put them away as she took out last night's meal from the icebox, presumably to make us something for dinner. Isn't this what I wanted? Didn't I want to share my life with someone? With Christine? So why was I sabotaging myself?

I closed the cupboard with a frown and she was there looking up at me solemnly. I wanted to run away, afraid to face her, my thoughts not yet in order and the mask still sitting on the couch.

"Is your world endlessly dark?" her voice whisper soft and intimate, her eyes questioning and sad. Did I make her eyes sad? I didn't want to! I didn't mean to!

"No, no," I scoffed wanting to lighten the mood and her eyes, "Silly thing to say really, only the blind have to endure the endless dark." I tried to brush it off as a joke but Christine went silent so I hastened from the kitchen like a scared little boy.

It was difficult to act proper while thinking of her hands on mine, her breath on my neck, her hair in my hands and tickling my palms, her lips reaching for mine. I shuddered and suddenly stopped mid-step, halfway to my desk.

I very, very positive thought had just dawned on me. I shuddered. Like she did! Did she shudder because she liked my touch as I enjoyed hers?

Could it be possible? I turned around ready to test my theory and lost my nerve at sight of her. Her arms were crossed under her bosom angrily but I didn't have time to wonder why she was angry at me. She was radiant, too beautiful to ever seek my touch for pleasure. I looked down at my feet, suddenly just as lost as that scared little boy a moment ago.

"Erik?" she didn't sound angry at me, her voice was the sweetest sound in the world. It had been created to tease my ears with perfection and how I loved perfection, how I yearned for it. "Is something wrong?" she was in front of me, my vision of perfection. How is it that I found every one of her features so captivating? Even her ears, her nose, those eyes…clear golden weight with lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. I watched her mouth move, her lips moist and pink, her tongue a tiny glimpse inside. My heart beat sounded thick in my head, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting hers. Not just her lips but the skin on her neck, her collarbones, lay my cheek on her satiny breast…

She touched me questioningly on my stomach and my muscles seized. Faster then I could think I had her wrist in my hand and I heard and saw the gasp on her face. She pulled lightly on her wrist in reflex and I slid my grasp to her fingers where I bowed over them to apologize.

"Forgive me please," I began feeling foolish. "My reflexes are…" I didn't know what to say. Deadly?

"Fast?" Christine asked laughing nervously and I looked up surprised to see her smiling.

I let my breath out slowly staring back at her hand. I could almost see where the veins travelled under her skin, her wrist bones so delicate looking. I could have broken her wrist and she laughs?

Maybe she really was meant to be mine. If me grabbing her like that didn't scare the soul out of her then maybe there was hope for this monster. She was also gazing upon my bare face and it made me want to bring the stars down for her.

"Christine?" Tonight I would take her above and treat her like royalty. Tonight we would celebrate her upcoming birthday together. Tonight I would stand tall and be a man for her and take her in my arms and kiss her. "Will you come with me to the opera?"


	18. The Opera

---

Raoul

---

It was the perfect plan. Tonight I was going to the opera with my father. I would wait until Meg and Julie were on stage and then sneak away from our box. Those meddlesome girls would not be able to stop me from going to see Christine while they performed. They had to be hiding her in her room but the problem was, no one would let me into the dormitories anymore.

I'd paid the newspapers to put out an alert on her and no one had contacted me yet. Surely someone would have contacted me if she left the opera house. The only explanation was that the girls were hiding her and she had never left the opera house. They were lying to everyone just to keep her safe. I was a little proud of their over protection of my fairy but they didn't have to hide her from me.

I had to apologize to her. She didn't understand how much I loved her. She didn't understand what just the sight of her could do to me. I had to make her understand. She would listen once I abased myself and groveled for my drunken behavior. She had to forgive me.

---

Christine

---

I sat in front of the mirror and fussed over my hair. I thought about leaving it down but ladies always had their hair twirled into spectacular updos for the opera and I wanted to be as ladylike as possible. I loosened a few curls around my face to soften the look and sat back to take in my reflection. My heart felt heavy in my chest because I'd finished reading Romeo and Juliet after we ate an early dinner. I covered my face with my hands trying not to think of Juliet plunging the knife into her breast so she could be with her love in the afterlife. I chill went down my back and I turned to my dress.

As I turned I saw a faint bruise on my back. Turning back to see I spied two such marks one on either side where Erik had grabbed me. His thumbprints were painted on my back. I stared for a moment unsure what I was supposed to feel and what I actually felt. If a man had bruised Meg she would have been livid and yelled at him but I wasn't angry at all. I remembered the look on Erik's face when he'd pulled me back, like he was afraid I'd fall over. Deathly afraid.

I turned back to my beautiful dress not liking how heavy my thoughts were. The dress was a spectacular cream and burgundy creation. The creamy colored bodice and skirt were over laid with a cap sleeve lace sheath and slashed around the waist with burgundy ribbons. It was a very modern dress because it had no underskirts, only a small bustle in the back leaving the front of the dress to hug my legs gently. The dress fit me almost perfectly, it was just a little too long but I figured it was because I didn't have the right shoes.

I slipped my feet into my nicest shoes and looked one last time in the mirror. It looked like my body had been wrapped in lace and ribbons, the skirt of the dress falling straight to the ground from my hips. It made me look very tiny, especially with this tight corset on and all my hair done up. I looked older with just a few wisps around my face and wearing this expensive gown. I felt older too. It had only been two days since my encounter with Raoul and yet I felt like I'd been healing for weeks. I closed my eyes and thought of Erik. Anytime I needed to feel better I just thought of him.

I wanted to make Erik love me. This had to be love I felt in my chest. I could have fallen asleep curled next to him with not one thought to propriety. He made me feel so safe and protected but I was pretty sure he was not completely comfortable with me. Did he only endure me because he felt he had to? His muscles always seemed so tense, like he never relaxed them and I wished that I could get him used to me with a snap of my fingers.

I stepped out of my room and he was standing by the piano, dressed in the blackest opera suit I'd ever seen. He turned as I walked out and looking at him was sensory overload. The suit fit him impeccably, the satin trim and lapels glowing faintly in the dim light. He had his white gloves on, stiff necked white dress shirt and a burgundy broad tie. There was a diamond tie pick thrust through his tie with a diamond the size of my thumb. And his mask. He'd put the mask back on.

I stood dumbly and stared at him as he walked towards me, his gate so smooth and alluring, his eyes glowing like jewels.

"You are exquisite to behold, Christine," I blushed not only from his compliment, but from the intimate roll of his voice. I could feel it inside me sometimes, so full and velvety in my ears that I wanted to press myself to him. I meant to say thank you but I was transfixed by his appearance and my attraction to him.

"You are magnificent," I whispered. Didn't I mean you look magnificent? Oh well, both were true. I reached up and touched the knot of the tie, trailed my hand over the huge diamond and down the center of his chest as he watched me. "Is that real?" I asked softly, my voice never wanting to be too loud around him, only when we sang did my voice reach the heights and depths of its ability.

"Yes," he said seriously. I looked up to see his serious face and loved him straight down to my toes. It felt so good inside me that I laughed out loud.

"You never cease to amaze me," I pushed the stray curl out of my face. "Are you rich? I never really thought about it but you must be to have bought all those clothes and," I had a thought, "Did you buy everything in my room for me?" Why had I thought that he would just have extra furniture laying around? I was slightly startled that I hadn't thought of it before. He seemed embarrassed as he took one of my hands without meeting my eyes and led me to the piano.

"When I furnished the room it seemed cheap to stop at the dresser and closet doors," he picked up a small wrapped box and held it out to me. "I know it's a little early but Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," I took the box from his hands, "Shouldn't I wait until tomorrow?"

"No, no," he admonished me, "Tonight we celebrate your birth."

I looked down at the small box. Did he buy me jewelry? I peeled the ribbon away tentatively. Nestled in the box was a gold necklace with a treble clef charm. It was simple and beautiful and probably another expensive piece. I blinked up at him feeling incredibly silly. I wonder if he bought me jewelry and then when I get it, I'm surprised.

"You shouldn't spoil me so," but I couldn't help looking down at the pretty necklace. It was perfect.

"Money means little when it comes in droves and it's nice to spend it on someone who appreciates and accepts it," I felt like he was asking me to accept it and looked up solemnly.

"Thank you, Erik," I took out the necklace wanting to put it on for tonight. I undid the clasp and held it out to him. "Will you put it on for me?" I handed him the necklace and turned around. I waited for a few moments before the treble clef descended in front of my eyes. I held up the loose curls around my neck to help as I wondered about his unknown birthday. I wanted to just pick a day so that we could celebrate him.

---

Erik

---

It took me three tries to get the clasp done up. My usual dexterity washed away by nerves. She looked so fragile and ethereal in the cream and burgundy dress with her hair all done up. The lace cap sleeves left her graceful arms bare and the lace over lay scooped around her neck showing off her collarbones. The burgundy ribbons slashed through the dress, crossing under the bosom and weaving through the bodice of the dress to her hips where they snaked behind her to trail down to the ground.

My fingers itched to touch her exposed skin. I was drawn to the warmth of it, the softness. I touched the back of her neck where her spine pressed up against her skin and then let my hand drop away. I was still afraid to test my theory that she liked my touch. I was afraid what the truth might be.

She turned around, her eyes warm and smiling, glowing with her internal light. The light that beckoned to me; the light that called me from my darkness and drove me towards her like a man gone mad. Her hand trailed over the clef.

"Does it look nice on me? I have to see," she glanced around looking for any reflection and I was instantly reminded of my face. This afternoon I'd sat with her and she made me forget I wasn't wearing the mask. It was the first time I'd ever taken it off and not been ridiculed and scorned. "Do you have a mirror, Erik?" Mirrors. I almost sneered. I hated them.

"No, only in your room," I turned aside to hide my feelings and my face, even though it was already hidden. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. It made my throat tight, my chest tight, my loins tight. I would never affect her in that way. She would never look at me and think I was attractive. As much as she liked me she would never want me the way I wanted her.

Her hand closed over my gloved one, "Come," she said and began pulling me toward her bed chamber. I could have stopped her but I didn't. I could have said no but I didn't want to. I wanted tonight to be perfect. I knew within moments I'd be in front of a mirror but I had my mask on, why need I worry? I didn't have to look in it. I laced my fingers through hers wondering what it felt like from her side of our hand holding. Did it make her nervous, excited and anxious? Or was it the same as touching anyone else for her? I had nothing to compare it to and to me it felt extraordinary. We stopped in front of her powder table and I continued to stare at the ground.

Chicken! Child! I rebuked myself. You are wearing the damn mask for crying out loud!

"It's perfect, Erik," Christine squeezed my hand and I realized I had some courage. I raised my eyes and for the first time in a long, long while I saw myself in a mirror.

---

Christine

---

The necklace suited me perfectly and I knew I'd probably wear it all the time. He was looking down at the ground and I suddenly realized the only mirror was in my room. I knew he didn't want to be here and yet here he stood because I dragged him in.

"It's perfect, Erik," I watched him in the mirror as his head came up, his eyes finding mine in the reflection. His pain was tangible, so close to the surface that I could wipe it away if I dared to. Turbulent emotions flickered in his eyes and then they left my face and he was looking at himself in the mirror. He went incredibly still and I could only imagine what made him so wary of himself.

"We match," I tried to break that eerie stillness he'd filled the dim bedroom with but he didn't respond. He stared at himself, a foreboding statue, and then his brow began to furrow, as if he was thinking very hard, concentrating unblinkingly on his reflection. We did match though, with him in his black and me in my off-white we could be getting married instead of going to the opera. Even our burgundy accents tied together flawlessly. We were spending an evening out together, supposedly celebrating and instead I made him face his demons. Embarrassed and wishing I could turn back time, I turned and put my hands on his lapels, straightening where none was needed.

"Say something, Erik," I whispered, desperately sorry I brought him in here and forced him to look. I wanted him happy, not hurt. I looked up at him with tears burning in my eyes and he slowly peeled his eyes from the mirror to look down at me.

"Christine?" he sounded surprised to see me and blinked his long dark lashes over the grey storm clouds of his eyes. I could watch his eyes forever, the changing moods like the seasons of his mind. I gazed up at him, like a child, as his gloved fingertips came up to touch my cheek. He touched me and I smiled beatifically.

His eyes sharpened on mine and he framed my face with his hands, his concentration shifting from where ever it was to me and only me.

"Are you crying for me again?" he purred, his eyes burning into mine, but I couldn't form a thought. He had cupped my face in his long hands, tilting my chin up and making an offering of my lips. My knees felt weak and my fingers crept up higher on his lapels in case I needed to pull him down to me.

"Christine…" his voice was low and growling, making my stomach roll over before he pressed his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed and my hands clutched his jacket, overcome by the intensity of his kiss. His fingers pressed hard against my skull as his mouth pressed solidly over mine, the mask pressed into my lip and cheek and I pressed up into him. It was hard and rough but it didn't hurt me and Erik…

My body tingled as he pulled me closer and one hand skimmed around my neck. I was melting to liquid from his touch but twisted my hands in his jacket to be closer. I needed to kiss him back, to tell him how I feel, to show him how he makes me feel. I rose to my toes urgently and he pulled away.

My lashed fluttered up like I was waking from a dream. Did I just feel that kiss all the way through my body? I stared up at Erik sort of dreamily with my mouth slightly agape. Was it the intensity of my feelings for him that made his kiss so amazing or was it his feelings that shot through me like a lightning bolt?

"We should be going," he said softly and I noticed he wasn't quite steady either. His hands caressed their way down my bare arms and he seemed to collect himself. "You need some gloves." His voice had more command to it and I continued to stand dumbly as he walked to the closet and fetched a pair of long gloves in a matching cream color. He handed them to me and I began pulling them on methodically as he fetched out a luxurious jacket from the back. It was knee length thick cashmere in a dark grey that was almost blue with large carved buttons down the front. I immediately fell in love with it and he held in out for me to step into. I turned finally breaking my steady gaze on him and he slid the coat on my back. I began fastening the buttons as I turned to look at my escort. I locked eyes with him greedily. I wanted more in that moment, I wanted to touch him and taste him until I couldn't even breathe at the intensity. My eyes skimmed down his tall elegant frame and I wanted to say a million things and I wanted to say half of them with no words.

"I crumpled your jacket," I observed lightly and he attempted to straighten it for a moment. He stopped and his eyes rose to stop my heart. He began to smile, a boyish crooked grin stretching over the bare side of his face. I couldn't help smiling back and we stared at each other, the memory of our kiss still fresh and replaying itself in our eyes. His hands dropped away from his lapel and he took on an air of indifference.

"I think I like it better this way," his voice held laughter and joy in it and I fairly glowed knowing that I'd, or we'd, put it there. He turned and offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

I slipped my hand through his arm and we went.

---

Erik

---

I decided to take the lake route, it was the most direct way to get outside and then up to box five. Better than snaking through a dozen tunnels to get there and more romantic, I thought, to help her in and out of the boat.

On the journey across the lake Christine told me that she'd finished reading Romeo and Juliet and it was not what she'd expected.

"Papa adapted it when he told me the story," she frowned down at her clasped hands as I rowed. "It was all a happy ending when he told it to me. They lived a long life and had many children..."

"That troubles you," I sort of asked though it was more a statement than question. I could tell it troubled her.

"It makes me wonder what else he adapted," she looked up, her eyes suddenly hurting. "What if he always lied to me? Just to spare my feelings. What else did he tell me false?" She clamped her mouth shut as if she couldn't believe she'd said that.

"Perhaps he only wanted to tell you happy stories, 'for never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo'." She smiled at me but it didn't quite reach her eyes and then she looked out over the water.

"Perhaps," she was quiet as she comtemplated a new piece of her father and tried to make it fit into the man she knew. I tried to distract her.

"When do rehearsals for Hannibal start?" I had been thinking about that a lot because when they started she would be much busier and I would see much less of her. Well, I'd probably end up watching rehearsals to keep an eye on her, so I would still see her but I wouldn't have her all to myself.

"We've already been rehearsing since there's only a few weeks between shows. Once Faust closes next week we start full rehearsals of Hannibal. Mme Giry says she will give me a part," she smiled wide at the prospect of being on stage.

"Well, the dancing in my living room belonged on a stage," I pulled the boat into the dock and tied it off. "It's a shame you can not showcase both your talents at once."

I offered her a hand out and she took it, of course. I almost smiled, it was becoming so easy for me to play the part of a ladies man.

"Do you mean sing?" she sounded shocked as we ascended from the boat.

"Yes, of course," I fetched the lantern and we started up the stairs to the alley way.

"But I…" she squeezed my hand, "I'm not good enough, Erik."

I stopped right there and she bumped into me. I turned around incredulous, "I beg your pardon?"

She took in the look of total disbelief on my face and then laughed, "Don't tease me, Erik. I'm serious." Her voice twinkled like bells in my underground cavern and I put the lantern down on the step and lifted her chin with my fingertips.

"As am I, my dear," I was very serious. "I would not tease you with notions of grandeur. When it comes to your voice you have a rare gift. Your register is ten times better then La Carlotta," I couldn't help the disgust in my voice. "You still have to learn to project a little bit more but I have no doubt that you will soon replace that beast of a woman."

Christine giggled and then looked up at me. "Honestly?" she asked with hope sparkling in her eyes like stars.

"Honestly," I felt warm and full, my chest not tight per see, but there was a pressure there, expanding inside. "Let us keep going," I bent to lift the lantern, her hand still in mine.

She made me feel so masculine and strong, capable of anything and normal. Sometimes when I looked at her looking at me I could forget my face and all the things I'd done. When she looked at me I was only Erik and she was mine.

We kissed…I hadn't been planning to do it at the beginning of the night but how was I to resist the tears of an angel…and now that I thought about it I was glad I laid my claim before I took her above ground where other men could gaze at her splendor. I scowled at the thought of other men looking at her. I would cut out their eyes if they stared too long…

I could take her up the spiral staircase that led straight to Box 5 and we wouldn't run into anyone but part of me wanted to parade her before everyone on my arm. See how she touches the monster. Look at the radiant beauty who is not afraid.

We came out to the alley and I put out the lantern, leaving it there for our return, and shut the door. I tilted my wide brimmed hat further over my mask and cocked my head at Christine.

"Ready to continue, dear?"

She looked up at me and then down at the stones of the street, "Are we going in the front entrance?" she looked uncertain and I brought my hands up to adjust my cuffs nervously. She didn't want to be seen with me?

"No, we will go in a private side entrance through the Upper Escalier to the Box," my cuffs could not be any straighter.

"Won't someone see you, Erik?" she was apprehensive.

"It's rather difficult to be a reliable ghost if no one ever sees you," I tried to hold on to my good mood but could feel it slipping away under the weight of doubt.

She looked back at her feet. "What if someone sees me…" there it was! I knew that was it! Being seen with me…"Someone like Raoul," she finished quietly.

I stood astonished, as in another part of my brain I furiously stomped on the seed of doubt that had sprouted in my head.

"If he sees me, Erik, I don't know what he'll do," her eyes were frightened and a cold murderous rage swelled inside me.

"I suppose I would be obliged to spit him like the pig he is and then we would continue on our way," I clipped out not even joking.

Christine, though, thought I was. She choked on a laugh, muffling it with her hand. "Erik, I'm serious." I guess it was good she thought I was joking. Better she doesn't know it would take divine intervention to stop me from killing Monsieur De Changy if I ever chanced to meet him.

"I will protect you, Christine," I would, and that sort of frightened me. I would risk being seen for her, being discovered for her. I would risk myself for her.

"I know," she looked frustrated, "I'm sorry, I know you would, I just…" she rasied her face to mine and it tugged at my heart.

Like shifting mechanisms, our bodies moved into each others, mine offering and hers needing. I opened my arms and she slipped wordlessly into my cloaked embrace.

"You have nothing to fear when I am with you," I held her against my heart as her hands slid around my back slowly as if savoring it and then she nuzzled her cheek to my chest.

"I always feel so safe when I'm with you." We stood still for a moment and I wished I could bottle this feeling. Then on a dark lonely night I could open the bottle and feel how cherished I was, how tightly I was being held, how soft her body felt, how warm she was and the scent of roses that wafted up like s siren's call…

"Should we go back?" I made the question gentle because a large part of me wanted to take her back and hide her beneath the earth with me. Keep her away from anything that might hurt her and keep my hands on her body, my lips on her skin. She pulled away before I wanted to let go but I let her slip from my arms.

"No, Erik, I want to go. I'm sorry," her dainty gloved hands clenched into fists, "I just…I can't…" I couldn't stand to see her fighting the demons that boy had arisen in her and my desire to go to the opera did an about face. She was apologizing for being scared of the man who attacked her!

"Christine," I heard so much more than just her name. Her eyes reached out to me, shining like two golden stars and I could never resist her call. I skimmed my hand down her cheek. "Come with me so we may celebrate the day of your birth. Come with me because you want to, and no one can stop you from getting what you want and come with me now," I turned to offer my hand with a small smile, "Or we will miss the overture."

Her eyes softened and that tender look was in them as she put her hand in mine. More of my heart surrendered willingly to her and I was helpless to stop it. That full feeling was pressing on my chest again.

We made our way inside and found mostly everyone was already in their seats, done with the strutting that so often happens on the Escalier. Never mind that if I could, I would strut around with Christine on my arm. The few people we passed barely looked in our direction but I felt Christine's hand tighten whenever someone rushed past. By the time we reached the box we'd passed seven people, none of whom even noticed me. Granted they'd passed farthest from me and the mask but surely that had never happened before.

I took off the cloak and took the jacket from Christine's hands mechanically. Had the phantom truly gone un noticed? Was I suddenly just an ordinary man with an ordinary...extraordinary woman, going to the opera. No nefarious purpose, no face of death, no screams, no gasps. I tried to think of other minor encounters I'd endured to build my myth. Did I imagine people reacting to the mask? Did I imagine them recoiling in fear? Had I embellished the memories? Made myself a legend in my own mind?

I lowered myself into the seat beside Christine and she put her hand on my arm. My eyes jumped to hers, which were full of interest and tenderness.

"You are a million miles away from me. Is everything alright?" she looked worried, her voice soft as her eyes roamed my face and the way she looked at me made me sit up straighter in my chair. She looked at me like I was a man worth having.

I reached up and touched her cheek with the sounds of the orchestra tuning and readying themselves in the background and it was almost magical. She made me feel so human, I was worth something when I was with her, she enjoyed my company, my music, maybe even my kisses…

I covered the warm resassurance of her hand on my arm and squeezed lightly. Share with her, Erik. Tell her the truth.

"It felt odd to have no one notice…the mask. Most times I can not go anywhere without a few gasps or screams."

"You sound disappointed," her voice held laughter and I wanted to not be touching her. Instantly, I felt foolish for sharing.

"I beg your pardon," I took my hand away, wanting to wrench my arm out from under hers.

"Were you hoping to frighten a few people?" when she said it like that it sounded stupid, especially since she was so amused by it.

"No," I stood to get away from her touch, "I've just come to expect it." I sounded angry.

"No one noticed the mask," she said matter of factly and I felt like I had to defend it.

"I daresay because you are so breathtaking that no one bothered to look at who was escorting you but I fail to see what is so amusing about it." I twitched open the curtain, annoyed that she could laugh so easily at me while she looked so damn beautiful I wanted to devour her. The house was full. I let the curtain fall back into place, turning my back to it.

Her face was somber and I hated myself a little bit more. Why did I have to be so selfish? Let her laugh at you if it means she's smiling.

"I'm sorry, Erik, I don't understand. Do you want people to be frightened of you?" she looked confused and I looked down at my toes uncomfortably. I opened my mouth to make a flip remark of business being better when the patrons were frightened but my eye caught the creases on my lapel. Warmth rushed up my neck as I remembered the way she pressed up into my kiss.

Share with her as she shares herself with you…

"No, only it feels odd to have the notions of yourself dispelled so easily."

"You think people should be frightened?" She was so sweet, cocking her head to one side as if being frightened of me was incongruous. It made my lips twitch.

"You were when we first bumped into each other," I reminded her almost playfully and she looked down shyly.

"Only for a moment…" she started fiddling with her skirts. "Besides, the only reason no one took notice of you is because we are a couple." She wasn't looking up and I was glad because if she did she would see the stupidest shocked, happy expression on my face. A couple?

"Single people walking alone always command more attention and I can understand why you usually grab people's notice," she finally looked up but my face was back in control as I tried to follow what she was saying. "Just the way you move commands attention, as if you're moving to music only you can hear. I swear sometimes if I laid my hands on you I'd feel it humming through your skin."

Her eyes suddenly widened as if realizing what she just said. A dull red suffused her face and her mouth dropped open. I know how she felt because I wanted to do the same; let my mouth hang open. Did she just say she wanted to lay her hands on me? I could hear the orchestra settling into silence and quickly gathered my wits.

"Perhaps we can test your theory another time, I believe the show is about to begin," I bowed slightly to her, intrigued with how this all felt. We were flirting, I think, and it was whetting my appetite for her. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her to want to touch me but she herself just said she wanted to lay her hands on you so leave it at that, Erik!

I put down the darkening shield on the lamp and opened the curtains mindful to keep out of sight. It was easy to forget myself being so happy and excited. She called us a couple and kissed me back, grabbing my lapels and she liked the way I moved. It was hard to keep myself subdued when I wanted to leap about like a gazelle, so great was the joy inside me. I took my seat beside her as nonchalantly as I could mindful that she may at this very moment be watching me.

---

Christine

---

The orchestra started into the overture and Erik and I sat still and silent in the darkness of the box. The stage was lit brightly to attract our attention but it wasn't quite working for me. I was acutely aware of his every movement, his breathing, his hand curled over his knee, keeping time with tiny flicks of one long digit. My eyes were drawn to the white gloved perfection of those fingers, so long and slender, able to wrap around my wrist with strength, bruise my back with force and yet touch my face with delicate wonder. My face warmed thinking of his kiss, so passionate and hard that the mask had pressed into my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep silent breath. He made me feel so…fantastic. He made me a woman where I was only a girl before. He made me feel things I'd never felt before. His music moved me, his voice moved me, his pain moved me. Surely this was love? This odd mixture of need, weakness, desire, confidence and sympathy. I wanted to right every wrong that had ever befallen him, I wanted him to smile every day. I wanted him to go maskless and still walk with his masculine confidence. I glanced at him covertly and was afforded the naked profile of his face.

This felt like love but how was I to know for certain? The only man I had ever loved had been Papa.

I gazed at Erik's jaw, the line of it straight and strong, his skin stretched tightly up to the high rise of his cheekbone to the fan of black lashes over his ever changing eyes. The perfect black stroke of his eyebrow and the slope of his forehead free of the boyish flop of hair that sometimes adorned it. I could only see the small part of the mask that curled over his nose, where it cut into his flesh to hold it in place. I wanted to burn that damn thing. I turned back to the stage almost angry, remembering what he's said about his mother and I huffed out loud.

I felt him turn to look at me and turned a few shades of pink. His mask was so white in the darkness of the box that his eye was barely a glimmer inside. His brow arched upward as if to ask 'are you okay?'. I nodded and mouthed sorry at him and then looked down at my hands in my lap. His eyes stayed on me and I could feel their gaze as heavy as a touch upon my cheek, neck and shoulder. He turned back to the stage and I slowly let out the breath I'd been holding.

The way he made me feel was so complicated. I was slightly scared but I didn't think I was afraid of Erik. I felt more like I had no clue what happened next and that frightened me. How do you make a man worship you? How do you make him pledge his life to you and drop to one knee?

I'd always imagined it was easy, like in Romeo and Juliet, one look and they knew.

Was it so easy? I glanced at Erik again and saw him grimace when a mezzo hit a sour note. A smile warmed my face and I wondered why I kept second guessing the way I felt around him. I should just follow my heart and reach out to my Romeo to let him know I finally realized he is there.

I leaned forward and covered Erik's hand with mine. I could feel his eyes on me but didn't meet his gaze. I concentrated on his hand. I played my fingertips against his index finger trying to peel his hand off his knee. He let me take his hand, he let me pull it into my lap and lace my fingers through. We were both wearing gloves but it would do for now. I knew he was looking at me and if I was able to draw him away from the stage and the music, then either they were bad or I was more interesting.

I hoped it was me that was more interesting.

---

Erik

---

Christine smiled down at her lap, the curve of her neck delicate and smooth, strays curls floating around her face and I was dumbstruck.

She was a vision and she was touching me. Not just touching me but wanting to touch me. She didn't need to be touching me but she was! She just reached out and took my hand and it felt wonderous to intertwine our gloved fingers.

She glanced up at me through a few curls and the pull of her eyes made my heart shudder in my chest. Her mouth opened and she took a breath to speak but then stopped and looked at the stage biting her bottom lip. I could still hear the music but wasn't paying attention to it at all. My eyes were all for Christine. I'd never been so enthralled by something other than the music during an opera and felt a small twinge of guilt but she turned back to me and leaned closer and those thoughts disappeared. I held my breath as her mouth passed my cheek to my ear. Her hair brushed the naked side of my face, her cheek just barely touching me and I could smell her again, that intoxicating scent of flowers, heady but soft. I felt my fingers tighten around hers and my eyes fluttered closed.

I couldn't resist her, but then who would want to? I nuzzled my cheek against hers and it was like warm satin. All thoughts spun out of my head except Her. I couldn't even remember her name anymore. She was only my angel.

---

Raoul

---

"Where have you been?" father asked in a whisper when I sat back down.

"Shh," I hoped he would not say anything more during the performance. I had made it into the back hallways where I used to be invited and easily found the room that was Christine's. Her door wasn't even locked and I let myself in. The desk was empty, the closet was empty, the bed was perfectly made. It appeared that no one lived in this room. I'd sat on the bed with my head in my hands for countless minutes.

She couldn't be gone. Someone had to know where she was.

Maybe it was time to tell father.

---

Christine

---

I'd been about to say something. I knew I leaned over to say something but for the life of me I couldn't remember. Erik had turned our faces together and reached up, touching my neck with his gloved fingers and I couldn't even remember where we were.

His breath was warm on my ear and I craned upward willing his lips to touch my neck. He gently kissed me on the cheek and then ran his lips to my temple and I thought I would melt into the chair. Incoherently I turned my face in his gentle hands and our noses rubbed together, our mouths a hairsbreadth apart. My ears were ringing, eyes closed as he held me there and we shared air. It felt so perfect to be this close to him, feeling the tension in his body, the warmth of his breath, I leaned forward the tiny amount of space to press my lips on his and the house erupted into applause.

He pulled back abruptly with a guilty look and cleared his throat into his hand. "We should be paying attention," he reprimanded us both. "Were you wanting to say something?"

I blinked at him stupidly wanting him to come back, wanting to bury my face in his neck, wanting…

My breath shuddered out of me and I looked away, "I forget," I said quietly feeling childish, silly, obsessed, enthralled. How could he stop so easily? Did he not feel that magnetic pull that I felt towards him?

The applause died down and I didn't want to be out at the opera. I wanted to be alone with Erik. I wanted him to make my body tingle like when he kissed me, make my skin hum to the music in his hands. I'd never been drawn to a man like this before, I was so helpless to resist to urge to be next to him, the urge to kiss him and put my hands on him.

I frowned down at my hands in my lap, not wanting to cry but feeling like I might. Earlier in my room he pulled away, and here now he pulled away from me, not that it was proper for us to be doing such things in the box...

I pressed my lips together. I wanted to be certain that he had feelings for me but when he touched me none of that mattered, all I could think of was giving in to the urges of my body. But if all he's ever known is ridicule, hate and loneliness then how would he even know what love meant? Had anyone ever showed him love before?

If only I could understand him better. If only there was some way I could talk to him about our relationship.

His gloved hand covered my clenched fists and I looked up startled. He searched my face, his eyes concerned and I realized I hadn't looked up from my lap in the last few minutes. I opened my mouth to explain or apologize but he laid one finger on my mouth and made a shushing motion with his lips. They pursed and I looked like a woman of wanton desire. His finger traced the curve of my lower lip and I warmed up my chest. His knuckles trailed over my cheek to my ear, where he gently followed its lobe and drew one finger along my jaw and under my chin making me stretch towards him with fluttering lashes.

He stared at me unmoving for a heartbeat and then turned back to the stage, his hand tight over mine. I also turned back to the performance with a pounding heart but I was strangely calm. The way he looked at me seared me straight to my heart and his hand was still tightly clamped over mine with some emotion that he couldn't express. Was it desire? Love? Fear? Any of them? All of them? I would figure it out. We would figure it out.

The rest of the performance passed in a blur for me. Everything that I remembered had more to do with Erik then anything that had happened on that stage. At the end when everyone started clapping Erik rose and the curtain closed as if by magic. We were plunged into almost total darkness and my heart thrummed into my throat.

I reached blindly for Erik and found him right in front of me.

"Are we going right away?" my voice sounded squeaky as my hands settled on his chest.

"I thought it prudent to leave while everyone is still seated," his voice felt all consuming in the darkness, "Does that suit you?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Take me home." He stilled under my hands and then was gone. I almost cried out because he had left me in the darkness all alone but he was back quickly helping me into my jacket like he could see just fine in this light. He didn't say a word as we donned our outerwear and I wanted to bite my foolish tongue. You've only been living there permanently for one day and you're already calling it home.

"Come with me," he took my hand and we passed through a wall from almost complete darkness into utter blackness. I practically buried my face in his back clutching for dear life to his hand.

"There's no need to be frightened, I have lit the way," his gentle words echoed oddly around us and I opened my eyes. Erik had lit a candle and the glow illuminated his mask under the wide brim of his hat. The diamond at his neck peeked out from his cloak to wink at me and the rest of him faded into the blackness around us.

"Where are we?" I looked around at the tunneled corridor that spiraled down into inky black.

"On the path home," was all he said before he led me down. I kept his hand tight in mine and we came out shortly into the passage he'd used to enter the opera house.

I looked behind me and then out into the alley and then the way we'd taken through the Upper Escalier.

"We could have gone straight to the box?" I voiced my observation as we entered the alley and found it to be raining lightly. Erik grunted and pulled me gently along with a hand at my elbow to steady me on the slippery stones.

"I thought you might like to walk through the Upper Escalier and it seemed a shame to waste all your beauty just on me. I am dreadfully sorry about the rain. Would you like my cloak?"

"Oh no, I'm fine," with you by my side I think I always will be.

---

Erik

---

She was quiet as we made our way down the street. I felt strange. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. She seemed to want to kiss me just as much as I wanted to kiss her. And she called my cave home; not just that but 'Take me home', like a woman might say to her husband. It was all very appealing to me and I hurried her along not wanting her to get too wet.

A few short minutes of walking and we were at my door to the lake. It was a hidden door of course but it required a key, unlike most of my press and release levered doors. This door and my front door both opened with this one key, which sometimes was a devil to fit into the slot.

The door finally released and I turned back to Christine to find her standing with her face upturned into the rain. The light mist clung to her skin and lashes like tiny diamonds sparkling in the moonlight and I stood spellbound as the dewdrops began to collect in her hair. It only took a moment for the curls to take on a silvery sheen, like she was a fairy covered in pixy dust, worshipping nature, her upturned face calm and smiling.

I wanted her. Not just for her beauty and voice but for her innocence and her joy in small things, her gentle touch and her inquisitiveness. Her eyes opened and the golden orbs blinked at me once, disrupting the dainty drops on her lashes.

"Do you like to stand in the rain, Erik?" she laughed shyly, "I know it's silly but it makes me feel closer to God."

I couldn't move because her words had rooted me to the spot. Closer to God. How would that feel? Would He even let me get close?

"I've never…" I stopped because I couldn't tell her I never believed in Him. I did believe in Him but He just never cared for me. Panic filled me. How could I say that when Christine stood before me, the radiant angel with the golden eyes who kissed me and touched me and maybe loved me? Surely only God could grant me such a blessing as she.

My mouth was open but no smooth flow of words left it, no barrage of information. Christine smiled at me and came closer tapping the buttons of my jacket up, up, up…

"You should try it," she put her arms around me and I sucked in a breath, aroused, startled, eager. The emotions ran so swiftly together that I turned my face up into the rain to look away from her. My heart thumped erratically and I closed my eyes to keep out the rain. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by her. I was so unused to being touched that everything felt remarkably good. So good it was almost too much.

Suddenly her hand was on my mask and I reflexively pulled back from her and my mask came off in her hand. The cold wet air hit my deformity and I gasped and covered it with my hand. I was stripped naked and vulnerable and damned shocked. Adrenaline pumped through me as Christine held out the mask towards me.

"I'm s-sorry, Erik, I…I," she stammered as if frightened and my anger boiled up inside me. I turned away from her afraid I might do her harm and wrenched the door open.

"Erik!" she called out but I couldn't stop. I needed to get down below where I could hide. I careened down the stairs with her quick footsteps echoing behind me.

Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair…

I reached the dock and leapt in the boat, unmooring it quickly.

Leaving without her, Monster?

I stared at the rope in my hands and knew the answer was no. I wanted her to come after me. I wanted her to soothe my frazzled nerves. I believed that she would, that she wanted to come after me and I wanted to have that. I was such a child. I threw the rope to the bottom of the boat, disgusted with myself and heard her skitter onto the dock.

"Erik!" she panted and her breathless voice sounded very appealing to my basic instincts. I didn't turn around. "Would you leave without me?" she sounded near tears and more frightened by that prospect then she had about my face and some of my anger leaked away.

I turned finally to look at her. Wet tendrils of hair clung to her rosy face, her chest heaved with the effort of chasing me down my stairs and her eyes were panicked, probably from the gloomy dark all around us, but she wasn't afraid of me. She was afraid I would leave her behind.

"No," I answered her succinctly and then grabbed her by the waist to put her in the boat. She made a small noise of surprise as I lifted her effortlessly and plunked her down but I couldn't meet her eye. What was I doing grabbing her like that? I was an animal, I was a beast in gentleman's clothing, I was a monster.

I sat with my back to her not wanting to talk, not wanting to ask for the mask back and not wanting her to see my face. It was enormously childish since she already had seen my face but I felt so exposed and my emotions felt so raw. I couldn't stand having her look at me right now with my heart tripping and my face so grotesque compared to her stunning beauty, her angelic radiance.

All was silent, I couldn't even hear her breathe behind me when I'm sure she was still out of breath from running after me.

Way to go Erik! Scare the life out of her. My anger disappeared under disgust and when it came time to lift her from the boat I was much more gentle if still grabbing her by the waist without meeting her eye. I had liked the way it felt to lift her by the waist and was even more disgusted with myself that I just had to do it again. Maybe I was thinking it would be the last time she would let me touch her.

She didn't raise her chin at all, she bowed her head with a quiet thank you and followed me to the door.

Damn my face! I had to apologize to her. I had to try to make this right again. Could I fix this? She already apologized and here it is my fault because I can't handle my own face.

You are a disgusting excuse for a man. Not that you ever deserved her favor and then you treat her like this!

Disgusting.

Appalling.

Monster.


	19. The Aftermath

---

Christine

---

Erik's mood was ominous as we walked down the path to the door. My dress was already filthy on the bottom from running heedlessly down the dark stairs to catch him so I didn't bother to lift it out of the dirt as I rushed to keep pace with him. I could barely believe that I was moving through such darkness and not afraid. I suppose it was because I had Erik with me, but I had a feeling he wished I wasn't with him right now.

The snarl of dark emotions that emanated from him was terrible. I could feel the anger like it was a cloak he could wrap himself in. He wasn't angry with me but just very angry, maybe at himself, but I couldn't understand why me stripping his mask off would make him angry at himself.

I had not meant to take his mask off. I'd wanted to tell him he should try standing in the rain without it on but he'd started at my touch and moved away and I'd tried to grab him and well…

The shocked look on his face, as if I'd just done something far worse than take his mask off, cut me straight to the heart. I felt terrible. I felt like I just abused his trust. I wanted to run and cling to him until he clung back but I knew he didn't want to look at me or even be near me right now.

As we came inside I took my time undoing the jacket's buttons and let Erik finish disrobing before me. He moved to the fire and I fished his mask out of the pocket of the jacket and left it on the table beside the clock before hurrying into my room.

I needed to get out of the dress and wash the hem or it could damage. It would also give him time to calm before I came back out. I hoped he knew I would be coming back out. At least he didn't leave without me. That would have been dreadful. Would I have begged him to come back for me?

I concentrated on the dress and within half an hour I was back out in my nightclothes with the white wrapper from the closet tied tightly around me. I knew it wasn't very proper but it seemed silly to get all dressed again when I'd be going to bed in a few minutes, and I wanted Erik to see I was comfortable around him. I still had my stockings, slippers and corset on and the wrapper covered everything so I pushed my improper actions aside to focus on Erik. It was time to talk.

He was sprawled in his chair by the fire, his jacket and gloves gone and his hair mussed. There was a glass of some amber liquid sitting on the table beside him. I was glad I'd taken my hair down because I was able to clutch at it as I came around into his line of vision. He stood quickly and our eyes met.

He left the mask off, which I took as a good sign, but the combination of his face and imperfect hair and his piercing eyes devoid of distraction made him look incredibly wild. I stopped a few feet from him with trepidation and looked down at my feet.

"I'm sorry, Erik," I began because he only stared at me.

"No, Christine, this is my doing," I looked up at his sad tired voice, it alone could almost bring tears to my eyes. "I try to pretend that I am normal but I am not," he raised one hand in a helpless gesture. "I've hidden for most of my life, even from myself, and it is very childish." The mottled side of his face was in shadow away from the fire and the handsome side glowed with perfection as he took a tentative step towards me. "Can you forgive me for being who I am?"

My chest swelled with emotion and I threw propriety to the wind as I tossed my arms around him.

"There's nothing to forgive," my words were muffled in the fabric of his waistcoat and his arms came slowly around me. He touched me cautiously and lightly, not putting his arms around me.

"Why are you here?" his hands wound through some curls gently, "Why do you hold me?"

I froze against him as his words swirled in my ears. Why did I hold him? Was it love that drove me towards him? Was it loneliness and my desire to be with someone or anyone? Was it his uniqueness, his voice, his music? Was it everything and nothing?

I lifted my face enough that I could look up at him while he held me lightly against his body, his long hands splayed on my back. His face was utterly neutral, the handsome side like a painting and the ruined side like a nightmare. I felt my emotions playing over my face and didn't have the skill to hide them as he could. He scared me, he intrigued me and he made me burn. My mouth opened and my lips trembled, my hands slid nervously from around him to hold his hips. I was being very forward, hugging him in only my nightclothes and knew I should step back but something kept me close to him, feeling how warm his body was even though his hands were usually cool.

Everything about him was so painfully striking that I felt like a baby next to all his grace and magnificence.

"Christine," Erik breathed my name softly and I felt a beatific smile curl my lips. His brows came down slightly and his eyes flicked over my face stopping for a second at my mouth before looking back up. His eyes suddenly seemed much darker.

"May I kiss you?" his low purr caressed my face and a flush rose up my chest at the eagerness I felt.

"Yes," I whispered, my heart quickening and my fingers curling into the fabric at his waist. My cheeks heated with the thought of how naughty I was and his mouth covered mine. Hard.

He pressed me to his body and my hands slid up his back as he kissed me greedily. His mouth moved off mine but pressed hard again with a desperation in his hands. Something answered inside me and my hands spread across his back as if there would only be one moment to feel this way and I couldn't waste a second.

This was what I felt in his first kiss, a wild abandon that was mindless and hungry. I stretched up to meet him as our mouths opened to taste one another. His tongue plunged into my mouth and my knees wobbled. He caught me as they buckled and our lips parted, our eyes opening to stare at each other. His eyes swirled with emotions but I was too dazzled to decipher them at all. My breath panted from my parted lips.

"Forgive me, Christine," he sort of shook his head, "I should not kiss you in that manner." He began to straighten away from me and I got my feet under me and reached up to twine my hands behind his neck.

"Don't apologize," I breathed out pulling down on his neck, wanting him to kiss me again. I knew nothing about real intimacy but I liked kissing Erik very much.

His stormy eyes searched my face unbelieving and then he claimed my mouth once more. Claimed was the only word to describe it because he possessed me with just his mouth, his hands and the hard length of his body. One hand cupped my skull holding my lips where he could taste them, plunder them. The other hand rode down my back and I heard a noise leave my open mouth. It was a sigh and a moan and I melted against Erik, melted into his arms and his kiss. I gave myself to him completely, opening my mouth to rub my tongue along his, to taste the flavor of him that pleased my palate. Even though it was rough it was nothing like Raoul's kiss. Erik kissed me with a ravenous exploring need and I answered his touch accordingly, not holding back one inch of myself and when I felt his manhood begin to press into my stomach I only felt excited and exulted that I aroused him.

When he finally pulled back we were both panting lightly and Erik rested his forehead on mine. I kept my eyes closed reveling in the moment.

"You are trembling," he spoke softly as his hands trailed down my arms.

"I know," I said equally soft as my hands traced down his chest, touching the buttons of his vest and the watch chain. His muscles quivered and then he scooped me up in his embrace and buried his face in my neck. He twirled me off the ground, clutching me so tight that I could barely breathe. He rubbed his smooth perfect cheek on the side of my face and in my hair, inhaling deeply. I wrapped my arms forcefully around him, my throat tight with emotion at his joy. He put me back on the ground but stayed bent over me, his face in my neck. I didn't know what to do or what to expect next so I stayed unmoving in his arms.

He took a few trembling breaths against my neck and then kissed me under my ear. I could feel the maligned lip on my skin with its rough smoothness different from the silk of his perfect lower lip. They skimmed down my neck kissing and sliding and my head fell to one side exposing the line of my neck, inviting him to taste me like a vampire's victim fallen under their spell. My pulse thudded in my ears and my stomach turned over as a warm pulsing energy quivered through me. My body was weak, arched beneath his with his hands and lips on me. There was no thoughts of no as he stopped at the edge of my wrapper, teasing the collar with one fingertip. He breathed warmly on my skin, hovering as if waiting and then unrolled himself from around me and stepped back.

I instinctively moved with him not wanting to lose contact and he took me by the upper arms.

"We must stop."

---

Erik

---

"We must stop," I heard myself say though I'm not sure how I had the strength to.

I was fully foolishly frantically insane over her. I could feel the soft give of her flesh, see her rosy upturned face and the bounty of curly hair, the golden glow of her eyes that called to me and I wanted to pull her in for more. I should have better control then this. I should not be thinking of peeling her out of that wrapper so I could explore the rest of her body. Best if I stop us right now because she didn't seem to want to stop me at all.

How could I say stop when I'd never had this…opportunity before? I've never kissed a woman or touched a woman. But Christine had been abused already…how could I think to use her in the same manner? No, I wasn't using her, because I cared for her so very much. But I couldn't take her innocence. I wanted to preserve it. That's why she was here with me, to be kept safe and innocent.

My eyes found the smooth column of her neck and my thumbs travelled in small circles on her arms to keep from pulling her back into my arms. She shuddered gently and our eyes met. Hers were clear but sort of heavy lidded like she was tired. I watched her lick her lips slowly, leaving them not only red and parted but now glistening wetly. Her lashes fanned over her eyes blinking with delicacy and I fought the urge to kiss her again.

"Must we stop?" she said very quietly as if she didn't think she should voice that desire and I agreed with her. Why stop when it felt so damn good?

I bent to her again. She tilted her head up to accept me and there was black at the edge of my vision, I could almost hear evil laughter in my head as my mouth closed over hers. My hands slid down and down wanting to trail over her bottom…

No, No, No, No…

I released her and turned away, scrubbing my hands over my face and through my hair. My face. That is why I could not have her. I could never be the man she deserved. I was a monster. I would have kissed her even if she said no. I didn't even ask her earlier before the opera. I had no control over myself. I wanted to taste her luscious mouth and luminous skin. I was a bad, bad boy…

"Erik, I have to tell you something," she blurted suddenly stepping around me so she was in front of me once more. My lips weren't the only greedy part of me. My eyes enjoyed looking at her far too much and her rosy face and scantily clad form were teasing me to continue my exploration. "I'm not like the other silly chorus girls who flit about and kiss every man who will sit them on their knee." She took a deep breath to continue but I interrupted.

"I never thought you were," I said it carefully because I was having thoughts of doing just that. I could envision her sitting on my lap, giggling as I nibbled on her jaw. Back out of my fantasy her mouth opened but she was having trouble speaking and her fingers started playing with her hair. I waited for her to voice her thoughts but she dropped her eyes as if shy.

"But…I want you to kiss me again," she all but breathed. She blushed pink at the vocalization of her desire and parts of me were blushing as well. I wanted to kiss her again but I would never be able to stop at that. I wanted more. I wanted it all. I wanted all of her. I was a bad, bad boy…

"I am most honored, Christine but at this moment I must regrettably decline." Her eyes flicked up from the carpet, surprised and hurt and then they lowered again as she reddened even more. I was ruining this but I couldn't give in. She would think now that I didn't want to kiss her at all but how do you tell a sweet young thing that you want to do WAY more than just kiss her?

I gritted my teeth together. I wanted her but I had to stop this. This was improper and she was too innocent to even know how very bad we were being. I covered my face with one hand, feeling the lack of my mask with wonder.

How could she look at me like this and still want to kiss me?

---

Christine

---

I stared at the carpet listening to the pounding in my ears. Regrettably decline? Why decline? All I could think of was kissing him again! At first I thought he'd pulled away because I was so forward. Must we stop? I reddened at my sinful words but he said he knew I wasn't like the other girls.

He reached up and my eyes followed his graceful hand to where he covered his eyes. The smooth whole side of his face conflicted with emotions and my throat squeezed.

Lord, why do I not make him happy? Why does he refuse me? Tears sprang to my eyes and I couldn't stand here anymore but I didn't want to go to my bedroom, we still had many things to sort out.

"Let me make us some tea," I said quietly as I walked past him to the kitchen. Slow tears rolled down my cheeks as I put on the kettle and fetched down the cups. I wiped them away covertly. I didn't want him to know I was crying. Crying because he wouldn't kiss me. Stupid really. I go my entire life never kissing boys and now I can't go five minutes without his mouth on mine? Maybe I was a trollop. Maybe Papa had known I'd become this wanton wreck of a good girl so he kept me away from boys. Could that be it?

No. That couldn't be it. Raoul's kiss had certainly not excited me and the other men from the Masquerade hadn't persuaded me.

It was only Erik that left me defenseless and willing. It was only Erik in my mind and my thoughts, his music in my dreams and in my heart.

I came back to the living room composed to see him holding Papa's violin. His eyes stayed downcast and I could think of nothing to say.

"May I play for you, Christine?" he asked politely, as always and I couldn't refuse the offer.

"That would be lovely," I sat in his chair by the fire because it was a little chilly and I noticed the glass there no longer held any amber liquid. Was he drinking? Is that why he kissed me? Papa's violin was at his chin, the bow raised as he tuned and checked and listened with his eyes closed.

I was wholly attracted to him. There was no denying it with the feel of him tingling on my palms and the taste of him so recently in my mouth. I stared at him shamelessly as he readied himself and told myself I was allowed to because he was performing and of course you look at the performer.

He paused and his eyes flicked to mine and then he began.

Violin music would always hold a certain charm for me but something about the way Erik played captivated me. His body weaved with the bow as if he played with his whole being and the music…

It floated on the air with musical perfection but held me immobile with its undercurrents of passion. It was glorious music with complicated melodies but I felt no euphoria in this music. All I could feel was the frailty and strength that the man before me was projecting. I felt like he was pouring his emotion into the music and I was able to feel them all. Confusion and happiness, despair and longing, sorrow, hate, desire…

Tears fell from my eyes as I was caught in the grip of his music, hope flared suddenly within me at one heartbreaking melody and then sorrow chased away the feeling as the notes became mournful again, aching loneliness, terrible pain, gut-wrenching misery. So many dark emotions battered me and then the music changed. It began to warm with that hope that I so briefly tasted. Joy flowed through me, joy unlike any I've ever felt, so much happiness that you would burst from the pressure and then the music changed again. Soft and seductive and my eyes fastened on Erik with intensity.

I traversed his frame with my throat tight. He was so handsome, so well built that the part of his face that he usually covered stood out in sharp contrast. The red bruised ruined skin looked like it didn't belong there, like it had no right to be there.

But then if he was any different then the man that he was, our lives would never have crossed. Our separate paths had come together because it was the way the lord intended. Erik had suffered much but I was here now to give him happiness and peace.

My eyes traversed his body again and I thought about unbuttoning his vest and shirt and pushing it all off his shoulders. I thought about his pale naked chest, all lean and muscled under my hands. I thought about touching it and placing my palm over his heart or tracing that long scar that slashed his nipple.

I had never imagined a man naked before.

My nails bit into my palms and I looked down to open my tightly clenched fists. There were little red half moons marked in my palms and I breathed out slowly trying to think past the music that called to me. I couldn't.

An intricate part pulled my attention to him again and he was looking at me as he played the sweetest song yet. Blood raced up my chest and my body hummed with awareness. I closed my eyes to try to gain control of myself but it only served as a blanker canvas for his music.

It surrounded me and I was the music. I was full of his emotions and feelings, the light and dark alike. I tremble and ached and when the music finally stopped I was on my feet, half the distance between us covered, awestruck at the sudden silence.

The crackling of the fire was loud in my ears as Erik lowered the violin. He stood there, feet apart, arms away from his body with bow and violin, tensed and silent. He only looked at me with that terribly blank look on his face.

"I'm warm," I said to explain my departure from the chair.

"Perhaps it would be best to move from the fire." What was wrong with him? Only minutes ago his arms were joyfully around me and now he was being so achingly polite and distant. I closed the distance between us because all I wanted to do was touch him. Move him. He looked down at me but his eyes had a hardness to them that I didn't like to see.

Did I make him uncomfortable standing here in my wrapper? I was just a silly girl who was falling in love with him, what was so threatening about me? I looked away pressing my lips together. I wanted to touch him but was pretty sure he didn't want that. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him, like his music had filled me with some essence of him and I needed to return it to his body. Maybe that's why he looked so blank and emotionless; he just poured it all into me.

I clenched my teeth as the silence thickened and the urge to lay my hands on him built. I had to say something, get him to relax but my hands were fisting and I was ridiculously tense. My eyes flicked up and down his tall slender frame trying to think of something, anything. My eye was caught by his watch chain.

"May I see your watch?" It was childish but it was something to say and it might orchestrate contact. Maybe if I gave him a moment to get comfortable around me…

"Of course," he turned and laid the violin on top of the piano. He whisked out the watch and I realized he was going to unlatch it from his vest for me. I quickly stepped forward and cupped it in my hands, catching one of his hands with the watch. He flinched but didn't pull his hand away and a smile tugged on my lips. I was once more myself now that I'd finally touched him. How odd it was to feel that need so strongly…

The watch was old but well taken care of and my curiosity got the best of me. He always handled the watch so reverently that I had to ask.

"Was this your father's watch?" his face was stone for a few seconds and then he pulled the watch from my hands and put it away.

"No," he clipped and spread his hands on the piano's edge. They drummed restlessly a few times and I felt terrible. If his mother was so cruel, what had I just reminded him of concerning his father? How did I always make things worse with Erik? I just never knew when to shut my mouth.

"Forgive me Erik," I whispered turning away. "I always forget my manners when…"

"Stop!" his voice sliced through mine and I froze. "What have I told you about your inquisitiveness?" I reddened and knew precisely what he was speaking about. I turned back with a bowed head.

"It helped us become friends."

"Yes, it did, so never apologize, ever again, for the very thing that brought you into my life." His fingers drummed restlessly and he took a deep breath. "I need to…accustom myself to revealing things to you. Just give me a moment."

I tried to but I couldn't. I stepped closer and touched his arm tentatively.

"I never want to hurt you, Erik, not with my words or through my actions."

His eyes finally met mine, the cloudy grey tinged with sadness.

"I know," his eyes held mine for a moment more, and then he looked back at the space between his hands. "It was Nadir's watch." That made me want to ask a dozen different things but I was trying to learn to just let him talk so I stayed silent. "He arrested the men who had taken me from the gypsy camp. The other boys were taken away but he kept me with him. I thought he meant to do away with me privately so I picked his pockets clean and planned to escape."

Erik paused and his fingers pressed harder into the piano's edge. "He took me to his home instead," and he lapsed into silence.

I stood still as long as I could and then moved closer to prompt him. He glanced at me so I could see some of the smooth side of his face and then looked away, leaving me with only the mottled side to stare at. I could easily see the lines in his cheek where someone had clawed at his face and the sight of that abuse made emotion swell inside me.

Lord, let me heal him.

---

Erik

---

Christine stood so close that I could touch her almost without trying. I could smell her intoxicating scent and wanted to just hold her and bury my face in her hair again but I digress…

My fingers clutched at the piano. The watch…she asked about the watch.

I was a child once again, small and frightened, standing in the entrance of Nadir's home.

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked as bravely as I could in my mother tongue, thinking the worst.

"I have need of some help around the house. I thought you could take the position. You will be fed and housed for the work," he removed his jacket hanging it neatly, then turned to consider me. His gaze asked a hundred questions but instead of asking he turned away. "I will show you to your room and where you can wash before we eat."

I couldn't move past my fear and I was muddled. Why would he be nice to me? Did he want something even more depraved than my death? He stopped when he noticed I wasn't moving.

"Come now, I can find you some clean clothing as well but not until you've bathed."

Clean clothing? When was the last time I had that? And did he say bath?

I took a hesitant step and felt the weight in my pockets from the man's things, a few keys, some money and a nice looking watch. I couldn't hear it ticking so I assumed it was a memento. I could run as soon as I got the clothing and I could sell the watch to get something to cover my face. The men who stole me from the gypsies had taken my mask and cut it up in front of my face.

He led me down the hall to the servants' quarters. He showed me a small room with a bed and desk and tiny closet. It was clean and the bed looked extremely comfortable. I gazed at it longingly as the policeman showed me the connecting door between this room and the next.

"My hand servant stays in that room, so please try not to disturb him too much. He is extremely busy since the Shah took the rest of my servants."

I wasn't quite following what he said, because he'd switched to Persian as if expecting me to follow and it was still quite new for me. I was also trying to figure out how I could slip away before he noticed his pockets were empty. My gaze slid back to the bed.

"I will leave the clothes here for you. Follow me to the bathing room," and he turned expecting me to follow, so I did, at a safe distance.

He led me up a flight of stairs past a few closed doors to the first open one. Hot air steamed from a large washbasin. The room was opulent, far too nice for a servant, and I realized this was his bathing room. I shrank back wondering why he would bring me here. Was he going to make me wash him? He was busy getting a large towel off the counter and I entertained the thought of running right now and not waiting another second.

"This was to be my bath but I believe yours is more pressing," he handed me the towel and looked his questioning look at me as if waiting for me to speak. "Can you find your way back to the room I showed you?" I didn't answer and he tried the question again in French.

"Oui," I said quietly, wondering when he would beat me for looking as I did.

He just left me to bathe, shutting the door and I gaped. I turned a circle at the room and decided he was either a fool or very kind, to leave an urchin such as myself in his personal space with all the expensive looking jars and statues. I could steal everything!

But he was no fool. I looked back at the closed door. He was very kind and was offering me food and shelter for some menial labor. I would be a fool to pass this by. I had never been shown kindness before. Not from my mother and certainly not from the gypsies. Maybe he felt sorry for me because of my face. There had been a few people who came through the gypsy tent who called for me to be let out of my filthy cage so I knew there were some people who would pity me my monstrous face.

Whatever his reasons, he had been nothing but kind and polite and direct since we'd stepped into his carriage and I still had his belongings in my pockets.

I swiftly went out into the hall and called out.

"Monsieur?" after a few seconds I heard him coming. He appeared just one door down.

"Do you require something?"

"Non…" I trailed off and wondered if I should speak the broken Persian I'd been able to pick up. Maybe he would find me too useful to dispose of once I admitted to theft of a policeman's belongings. "I feel terrible because you have been so kind to me but please understand that no one is ever kind to me. I did what I had to do to survive and I apologize for my hasty reactions." I pulled out his belongings from my pockets and handed them back to him. He looked very startled and I saw him touch his empty pockets as if to check them. Then his face became very grave as he returned his things.

"What is your name please?" I was scared again. Would he beat me now for stealing? But I returned his property!

He is a policeman, idiot, of course he'll punish you for stealing!

"Erik," I fought to stay still and be brave.

"Erik, pick pocketing is a serious crime here in Tehran, we cut off your hand as punishment." He paused for effect as my hands involuntarily clenched at my sides. "I would hate to see you lose a hand so please refrain from this activity when you are under my employ."

I nodded sort of dazed. He wasn't angry?

"Now go have your bath so we may dine." He was done? That was it? Not even one slap? Even my mother would have hit me.

"Yes sir," I turned to comply. If he was so easy to please and so nice… Dreams of a simple life flitted through my head as I washed and dried myself in opulence. I felt like a young prince come home and then caught my reflection in a mirror. I sneered at my face, making it look even worse, and turned from the monster.

No, I wasn't a prince but I could be a servant to a nice man. One who maybe would just leave me be and not hurt me. I put my rags back on to walk to my new room. There were more clothes than I'd even owned sitting on the bed. Long shirts, vests and baggy pants, even a pair of shoes but they were too small. I dressed quickly and left the room barefoot to find the dining room. It was easy enough to find and the man was there being served.

"Erik, come sit," he waved me forward. He glanced at my bare feet. "I thought the shoes would be too small but the clothes fit well?"

I tugged at the good clothing bashfully, "Yes sir." Suddenly I wondered why he had boys clothing, they were too nice to be servants' clothes.

"Sit, eat, you must be famished." I sat. I ate. I tried to ignore his questioning eyes but they were heavy as a hand upon me. All through dinner he would look at me and then look away at some missive he was reading, never asking his questions, trying not to stare at my monstrous face.

By the end of dinner I was relaxed, tired, sated, clean and thinking about that bed with unnatural desire. I hadn't slept in a bed since my mother sold me.

The man pulled out his watch to check the time. He tapped the face and grimaced, discarding it on the table as he stood.

"You may be excused from the table, Erik. I'm sure you would like some sleep right about now." He began to leave and my eyes darted to the watch. It was broken?

"Monsieur?" I stood and sidled towards the watch to check. I picked it up, turned it over, listened carefully and then looked at Monsieur Policeman. "If you have some tools I can fix it for you." I wanted to do something nice for the nice man.

"Don't worry yourself, Erik. It stops constantly and no one has been able to fix it. I carry another timepiece because it is so unreliable."

"But I can fix anything, sir." I could. Anything. It was how I'd spent a lot of time as a young boy. My mother didn't offer me entertainment so after teaching myself to read and write with some of the books she had in the house, I began to take things apart to see how they worked. It didn't seem strange to me that I was able to master such abilities at such a young age because I never had contact with anyone else. But when my mother sliced my hands open to bleed the devil from them I stopped letting her catch me.

He had the table cleared and the tools brought. He watched over me as I opened the back and tweaked the mechanisms. When I was done I smiled at the soft steady tick. I turned and held it out to him. He looked startled again but took it and turned it over opening and closing and opening it again.

"Amazing," he said softly and then brought his studying eyes to my face. I dropped my eyes and the smile faded. After a few moments he spoke.

"Off to bed with you. You will have a long day of work tomorrow. I expect you up at six to help in the kitchen." I began to make my way out and he stopped me.

"Wait," he called and I froze. I didn't want to dispel my dream of a simple life where no one would hit me. Was it too much to ask that people not abuse me? I swallowed hard and watched him advance on me. He leaned over and took my hand to press the watch into it.

My eyes flew up to his smiling face.

"So you will never be late, Erik. Time is the only true constant in the world. Everything else can change in a heartbeat but you can never gain back time."

---

Christine

---

I stayed quiet when he finished talking not sure what to say. I now, more than ever, wanted to meet Nadir but didn't voice that either. He'd obviously developed his insistence with time from Nadir and when he'd mentioned more clothing than he'd ever owned, I had to smile. I knew exactly what that felt like. I bit my lip to try to keep myself from asking more questions but it was useless.

"How old were you?" He glanced at me finally and I was glad to see his eyes. He didn't look at me at all while he spoke.

"I'm not really sure. Perhaps, nine or ten." Right, he didn't have a birthday. I remember being nine or ten and not having a single worry in the world. Papa and I lived in perfect harmony, him caring for me and then me caring for him as I grew. Erik had been so young and already so alone.

"How did you learn Persian?"

"I picked it up," he shrugged slightly.

"Where did the boys clothing come from?"

"Nadir had a wife and son who both passed about 5 months before he found me," he was about to keep talking but I interrupted rudely.

"You fit in his dead son's clothing?" I blurted and a strange look passed over Erik's face and then he frowned.

"So?" I grabbed my hair self consciously and shrugged looking away, cursing my babbling tongue.

"I just thought it odd that you and him were the exact same size. Maybe he was the same age as you when he died." Erik began putting away the violin into the case.

"You could be right," he said more gently. "I never asked Nadir about his son." As he did up the clasps on the case I remembered to compliment his music.

"I didn't know you were so accomplished on the violin," I toyed with my hair as he glanced at me.

"Nadir allowed me much freedom when I stayed in his home. I mastered many instruments but preferred the piano," he swept his hand out to the couch. "Shall we drink before bed?" I'd completely forgotten the tea I made, it was probably cold too.

We sat on the couch and drank the tea in silence; it was still a little warm at least. When we finished I replaced my cup on the tray and moved to pick it up. Erik forestalled me by grabbing my hand and I turned to look at him surprised. Since kissing me and then declining another he had been carefully not touching me.

"Happy birthday, Christine," he whispered against my fingers, eyes closed and on impulse I ran my hand through his hair lovingly. He lifted his sad eyes to mine and I melted at the look on his face.

"Thank you for the wonderful evening," I meant it sincerely but then recalled the unpleasant part where I'd taken his mask and wished I hadn't said anything to remind him of that. Erik stood but didn't relinquish my hand and I stared at him breathlessly wondering what was going to happen. He began to lift his other hand to my face and then dropped it.

"May I touch you?" he asked softly and I warmed considerably.

"Are you not already touching me?" I managed to say, squeezing his hand. He smiled his tiny smile and lifted his hand once more. His cool fingers skimmed my cheek and down my neck slowly, then swept up along my jaw line delicately as his eyes followed the movement. He began the sweep again.

"I should be sending you to bed but I just…your skin is irresistible," his voice faded and his eyes heated as they met mine. "Do you know that you never need fear the dark, for you have a light within you that glows beneath your skin." My lips parted at the heat in his eyes. Would he kiss me now? He looked like he wanted to so I raised my face to his. He searched my face as his gaze sharpened and his hands came to my shoulders as if he were bracing himself. My body wanted to press against his and I let it sway towards him. He squeezed my shoulders, maybe to keep that from happening but he squeezed right over the bruises and I flinched. His hands dropped.

"What is it?" his voice sharp.

"Nothing, Erik," I answered quickly knowing that nothing good could come from him knowing he bruised me.

"You are in pain," a statement not a question.

"Honestly, Erik, they don't hurt at all, it's just when you grabbed my shoulders…" I felt like I would spiral off into some dark unknown place as my voice trailed off. He would be angry with himself. He would get angry and I didn't want him angry, I wanted him happy and in my arms.

"Are you injured?" his voice was full of concern and he swept one hand down the side of my face worriedly.

"No, no just a few bruises…" I couldn't meet his eye.

"Where?" he wouldn't let it go and I knew it was because he wanted to make it better but what would he do when he found out he'd caused them.

"On the backs of my shoulders."

"I can make you a tincture to heal them, show me," he commanded and I don't think he even realized he'd just asked me to remove my wrapper. I stared open mouthed as heat rushed up my face and then I turned around to comply. I took a deep breath as I loosened the sash so I could slip the collar down over my shoulders feeling like a seductress. I clutched the wrapper to my chest with one hand so it wouldn't fall past my elbows and pulled my hair over my shoulder with the other hand. I stood like that for what seemed like an eternity. I was afraid to look at him because then I would have to acknowledge that I had willingly stripped half my clothing in front of a man. Why was it that it didn't feel wrong or bad? Was I such a naughty girl that it didn't faze me?

My back tingled with awareness and I peeked over my bare shoulder. Erik was right behind me with his hands up as if to replay this morning on the roof but he never touched me.

"I hurt you," his voice was a broken whisper and he backed away from me slowly.

"No Erik, they don't hurt at all," I turned to try to convince him but I knew it was useless. He would convince himself of the opposite. "Please don't," I whimpered sure that he would think me better off without him.

---

Erik

---

"Please don't," she pleaded and I felt like I might lose control. How could I go from feeling so good to feeling so lost in so little time? I hurt her! I was supposed to protect her, not bruise her and now she was begging me not to…Not to what?

Please don't ever touch me again. Please don't look at me. Please don't speak to me. Please don't bruise me. Please don't hurt me.

"What?" I asked bluntly when she tried to reach for me and I stepped out of her reach. I was aware that anger was curling in my stomach, clenching my fists and tearing my control to pieces and she was standing there with her wrapper still loosened. Had I actually asked to see them? And she complied when she really should have slapped me. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Erik, please…" she sobbed, her lips trembling and I was at war within myself. I wanted to hold her as hard as I could to my body and I wanted to run away from her as fast as I could so I would never hurt her again. "Please," she came towards me with her hand out like I was a wild animal and I wheeled away from her recklessly, knowing that I was an animal.

"You had better keep your distance," I commanded as I collected the tea tray stiffly and carried it into the kitchen. "I can not be trusted." I began cleaning the cups and noticed my hands were trembling. I didn't want Christine to see so I just turned the dishes over the towel to let them air dry istead of putting them away. I turned and she was there.

"I trust you," she touched my arm lightly and I almost growled at the sight of her tear stained face. I was making her cry now too! "Please don't be angry," her eyes pleaded for me to be reasonable but I am anything but.

"I marked you," I growled wanting to push her hands away when they crept to my shirt front but I was enjoying her touch too much.

"And I hurt you when I took your mask," her fingertips grazed my jaw below my deformity and I clenched my teeth. It was hard to stay mad when she just deflected it all with loving kindness. She took my face in her hands and I couldn't believe the way she looked at me, like I was worth fighting for, like she really wanted me. But I was suddenly very afraid to get what I wanted. I could hurt her even worse with my deadly hands. Her hands snaked around my neck, combing through my hair and she tilted her lips up and up until they were so close, so achingly close…

"Kiss me," she whispered across my mouth and I don't think I breathed for a few moments. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Her lips brushed mine tentatively as if afraid I'd pull away and I groaned quietly as I grabbed her and pressed my mouth over hers. She welcomed me, held me, opened her mouth for me, coiled her arms around my neck and moaned softly at my kiss. Desire flared through me like a heat wave and I lost myself in her embrace. She tasted so good, so fresh and light and succulent…My body quivered as she drew her tongue into my mouth evocatively. I wanted her so very badly and she seemed to enjoy being in my arms. I could just carry her to my bed…

"NO!" I practically yelled as I tore myself from her mouth. "No," I panted a little more in control, "This isn't right," I resolved as I looked at my shaking hands. "As much as I want…" how could I tell her that? I couldn't. "I'm not good enough for you Christine."

"What are you talking about?" her voice was so soft, just like her skin, her hair, her eyes…I covered my face with my hands.

"Look what I did to you while trying to protect you! Not only that, but just look where I live! It's a hole in the ground for Christ's sake!" I could feel myself descending into darkness and all I knew is it would be bad if I let blackness reign while Christine was in the room.

"I like your home, Erik, I feel comfortable here, like I belong here."

I laughed and I think it had a maniacal sound to it. "Belong! How can you belong in my darkness," I gestured wildly, "when you are the most beautiful angel I've ever laid eyes on, when you should be fitted into the grandest of homes with servants and a man who is worthy of your attention."

Her eyes came up quickly and she looked startled, "But I…"

"Look at my face," I was slipping into the darkness and couldn't stop it. It was closing around me, eating my vision. "Your eyes should never have laid on its ugliness. I should never have even spoken to you let alone touched you!" The more I ranted the more I wanted her! I was trying to convince myself and her that this was wrong, that I would only hurt her but she was standing there in her nightclothes, the line of her stockinged legs easy to see in the opening of her wrapper, staring at me wide eyed and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my room and toss her on my bed…

My body vibrated with need and I turned to fetch myself more scotch. I needed something to dull this emotion and these urges.

"You need to get away from me," I warned her, knowing she wasn't safe with me anymore. She enjoyed my kisses too much for me to stop there, if she came to me again I just might throw caution to the wind and give in to my depraved thoughts.

I poured myself a healthy tot and drank it back. I could feel it burn on the way down and my head cleared a little. I was acting crazy. She finally had seen me in all my crazy glory.

"Erik, please, why are you doing this?" she sounded so concerned. I scowled at my empty glass and contemplated another.

"Do you know how many people died at my hand?" I twirled the glass in my fingers willing myself to not look at her as I reminded her of my sins.

"You already told me," she sounded much closer and I whipped around, hastily putting down the glass to fend her off. She was my fantasy come to life, her hair a curtain of curls, her chemise playing around her knees as she inched closer and closer…

"These hands!" I splayed them out in front of me, panicked that she would touch me and push me beyond the edge of my control again. "These hands killed so many…" I almost choked. "I'm not fit to touch you. Can't you see I'm crazy?"

She stopped finally but she was still within arm's reach, her angel face solemn. I wanted to grab her, crush her to me, take her down to the floor and possess her completely. But even as the violent sexual cravings pummeled my body and mind I wanted her to play with my hair, I wanted her to tickle my bare face and chest with the hair on her head, I wanted to hear her laughing at something silly I'd said. I never knew that I could want a woman in so many different ways. I didn't understand this wild possessiveness but unutterable tenderness that I felt towards this vision of an angel.

"You are not crazy," she said very convincingly over the pounding of my heart.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I felt entirely crazy as I stood here trying to keep her from touching me. Why exactly would I want to stop her from touching me when it's exactly what I wanted? What I yearned for…

"There is not one single good thing about me." I don't know why I spilled that childish drivel but my brain wasn't working and the darkness was still trying to eat me and Christine was very close, I could reach out and grab her and she would come into my arms willingly, it would seem…

"Don't say that, Erik! It's not true!" the look on her face could almost convince me. "When I look at you I see the man who helped me overcome the most devastating event in my life. Surely that is a good thing," she tried to get closer and I backed up shaking my head.

"You are too pretty to waste your life crying," it came automatically, one of the many reasons I gave myself for going to her repeatedly and trying to ease her sorrow.

"And you swept in and saved me, like my knight in shining armor," she sounded so glad of that and it conflicted with my preconceived notions. I shook my head trying to wrap my mind around her words. "You gifted me out of any other person your music. You taught me to sing, you gave me friendship, took care of me, saved me from despair, rescued me…" she stepped closer her voice soft as seduction and my hands lowered because they were trembling badly. "You make my heart race with the merest touch, the merest glance," she looked away shyly. "I don't know what it all means but," she took a deep breath as she clutched at her hair. "I think I'm in love with you."

I was dreaming. This had to be a dream.

---

Christine

---

He stood there staring at me, his mouth fallen open in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded like a rainy sky. He was visibly trembling and it awed me that I could affect him so. His hair was begging for my fingers to run through it again and his face was so shocked and almost frightened that I wanted to hold him and comfort him. He wasn't even trying to hide his face and from head on his protruding cheekbone looked so alarmingly unprotected that I wanted to cover it for him. Not because it was terrible but because it made him look so very vulnerable.

How do you think you are in love? You should know for certain, like a stroke of lightning to your heart, like Cupid's arrow, but I didn't. Was this love? My chest ached for Erik, my heart tripped, my breath came short and sometimes he scared the wits out of me. But it felt so marvelous to be close to him and there was so much that I liked about him. I started smiling just thinking about his music and his singing, our lessons and his intelligence, his humor, his hands and his striking eyes…

I couldn't think of a better man to give my life to, a better person to spend my days with. Surely it was love to want to spend every day with the same person, sharing idle thoughts and laughter, dreams and warmth. My eyes roamed Erik and some of that warmth curled into my stomach. How I yearned for him to grab me and envelop me in his passion…

"Don't look at me like that," he turned his face from my eyes angrily, dashing my happy thoughts. I tell him I love him and he gets angry? My brow furrowed as he kept talking. "I am in no way deserving of your attention or affection. I am well aware of what I look like," his face was stern and it pulled at my heart. Did he think his face warranted him no love?

"I see you, Erik, and I like what I see," I said gently, reaching to touch him to take away his pain.

"No," he was certain and moved further from me with sad eyes. "Don't lie to me."

I stood with one hand reaching for him as my heart broke for him, "It's not a lie."

"I have no right to touch you like that. I was born wicked and have lived a terrible life. I have always been damned and you should not know this evil," he touched his chest as if evil inhabited there. "These thoughts I have," he touched his head and then covered his face growling. My stomach twisted but I stayed standing where I was. I would not let him frighten me away. I'd felt his joy when he spun me off the ground and I wanted to give him that, multiplied by a million, every day of his life.

"You are not evil," I tried but he glanced at me like I was a fool.

"Evil, sinful, wicked, depraved, devilish…it is all the same up here…" he tapped his temple and then turned from me. "You should go to bed now before you catch a chill in your nightclothes."

Just listening to his perfect voice tell me something I didn't want to hear was physically painful and the reminder of my sinful disrobing burned my ears red. Why was he dismissing me? Did he not want me? I wanted to be in his arms. Could he really not tell?

I began to tie up my wrapper suddenly feeling the chill even more. He was moving towards the door and I realized he was going to put his stupid mask back on. Anger filled me as I remembered so much that he'd alluded to. 'You are too pretty to waste your life crying.'

"I suppose you only like me because of my face," I sounded like a petulant child but I had to say this, I had to talk or I would cry. "That's all that matters, right? Physical beauty? Nothing else could possibly attract me to you." He'd turned before reaching the mask and I was glad I'd distracted him from putting it on but I was also very angry at him.

I moved towards him as I finished tying the sash viciously. "I may have never kissed a man before but I will not deny that it feels amazing when you kiss me." That admittance made me blush and I quickly tried to lessen the confession. "What does it feel like for you? I suppose it was so horrible that you can't even stomach the thought of doing it again?" That was a silly thing to say when I knew he had enjoyed our embrace but I wanted him to admit it too and not leave me feeling like the solitary sinful one. "Perhaps you don't care at all for this silly dancer! We're no better then whores anyway!" I almost yelled it and Erik's face was traumatized.

The tears were coming quickly and I needed to finish before I dissolved into my grief. "I never thought someone as smart as you could be so entirely brainless! You are worthy of my attention, Erik, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe my affection is mine to give!" I started to back away from him as the first tears slipped down my face. I was angry and sad and humiliated as his wide eyes followed me. "Why can't you believe that I like you, that I think you are handsome, that you interest me in so many ways…I'm entitled to my own opinion and I don't appreciate your dismissal of it." With that I turned and hurried to my room, spinning and leaning on the closed door as I took a trembling breath.

What have I done? My breath shuddered out and I scrubbed the tears on my cheeks. I wanted to stay angry but couldn't think straight. He muddled my brain, tore out my heart and I still wanted him to take me in his arms and carry me to his bed. I pushed away from the door slipping the shoes off my feet.

He was the only man I'd ever wanted and the thought that he didn't want me was too much for me right now. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wanted to break it. I looked like a frazzled little girl and wished I had controlled my actions better around him. I was embarrassed to want him so badly and have him turn me down. Didn't it make me a harlot to have these urges or were they okay because I thought I might love him? But what did any of it matter if he didn't want me? How was I going to face him in the morning?

I went to the washroom to ready for bed and splashed cold water ruthlessly on my face. When I looked into the mirror I could see all the questions in my eyes. Why would he ask to kiss me and then a few minutes later not want to? Was I a terrible kisser? No, he'd enjoyed it and he'd been extremely happy for about two seconds and then he'd decided he didn't deserve it.

I couldn't understand why he had changed his mind so suddenly, why my confused confession of love would make him act as he did.

He thought he was crazy and too evil to be touched by me. Did that mean I really was the first woman to ever try to touch him? Had he never been with a woman before? I removed my corset and stockings and crawled into bed, smoothing down my chemise, replaying what had happened in my head. I relived the sensation of his hands on my body, the wonder in his exploration and the feel of his mouth on mine and on my neck. I was certain he'd never touched a woman before just as I had never been touched. Well, almost never. More tears filled my eyes, already so close to the surface, as I thought of Raoul's rough hands exploring my body with heated desire. Maybe...that was it...

Erik wanted to be with a woman. Any woman. He only wanted my body, like Raoul, except he must feel bad for using me that way and that's why he stopped. I didn't like to think it but it made sense. He was trying to be a gentleman and I was so ready to be his whore. I buried my face in the pillow and screamed my frustration.


	20. Desire

**Author's note: I can't believe I have over a hundred reviews! You guys rock! I love reading your thoughts so keep them coming!**

**On to more E/C goodness...**

---

Erik

---

I lay awake staring at the ceiling, my hands holding my still wet hair off the bedclothes. I hadn't bothered to pull them back knowing I'd get no sleep tonight but I hadn't bothered to dress either, only pulling on my kimono pants before collapsing on the bed, so part of me hoped for sleep.

I was drained, bone tired, wanted to just pass out and forget everything for a few blissful hours but there was no way it would happen with my thoughts and her voice crashing and flying through my head like this.

'…I like you…I think you are handsome…you interest me in so many ways…'

She loved me…

I was a fool.

I was an ugly fool and she still loved me.

Christine…Christine…

She was so beautiful, her skin so golden and luminous, her hair luxurious and wild, her eyes tawny and large, the lashes lush and delicate, her body soft and feminine, her scent warm and intoxicating…

I wanted to mount her like a dog in heat.

Disgusted, I pushed up off the bed and began pacing. Someone had to be looking for her but she seemed to only be concerned with me. I've never had someone so concerned with me. It made me feel odd. I never thought I would have someone care for me, touch me at random moments, cook and clean and live with me. Just knowing she was in the other room felt nice. Is this what love felt like? I enjoyed her company and her gentle touch, her kisses, her sweet, soft, succulent mouth…

I dropped to the ground and did fifty push ups hard and fast. I most definitely lusted after her and it was driving me crazy thinking she might possibly be okay with that. The way she kissed me and asked for more…

I sank to the carpet, breathing a little harder, cursing myself eighteen different ways as I recalled the way it felt with her arched against me, touching me. It made me feel so manly and warm and tingly and if I hadn't gone crazy we might be together right this moment.

I stood and resumed pacing. When she yelled at me I was too shocked to do anything but stand there like a fool. Did my actions really make her think I didn't care about her? That she meant nothing to me? Thinking of her calling herself a whore made me want to go pound on her door and yell at her that she was dead wrong. How could she think such a thing?

Of course, if she really did want me even a quarter as much as I wanted her then perhaps when I pushed her away, for the third time, it left her feeling wanton? It certainly left me feeling unstable. How could I be such an idiot? The woman professes her love and all you can think of is how unworthy you are of her. You should just keep it to yourself and wallow on your own time! Christine doesn't need to hear you sniveling about your face.

'I see you, Erik, and I like what I see.'

She practically slapped you in the face with her approval and you managed to somehow ignore it. I truly was the stupiest genius alive. Part of me wanted to go knock quietly on her door and beg her to forgive me, take me back if she was thinking of giving up on me and apologize for ruining her birthday celebration. Part of me also wanted to ask her to my bed but it was so wrong to even think it. I was way below what she deserved…

Enough you pathetic excuse for a man! You can't even go two minutes without putting yourself down!

I reminded myself of the way she looked at me; like I was good, like I was a wonderful man, like I deserved her love and then started pacing again.

Whatever had occurred before she yelled at me should be considered moot. She was angry at me and I had to figure out how to approach her tomorrow. I'd never had anyone get mad at me before. I mean, the people I killed were probably mad at me but I just killed them so I had no worries there. Nadir never got angry with me, he would just give me that disappointed look and it was enough to stop me. Bernard never got mad at me, he barely questioned anything I said to him. But Christine was MAD at me. I didn't even know she had it in her.

I ran my hands through my hair remembering how her eyes had flashed. She looked fierce and I wondered if I looked like that when I was mad. On her it had been arousing but on me…I mulled the possibility that it was my eyes that scared people but then dismissed it. My face was my crowning glory. There I go again...

"What about Christine, Erik?" I spoke out loud and then smiled stupidly at the sound of our names together. I groaned and flopped back onto the bed.

I must be in love with her. I've read all about it, the heartache but also the pleasure, the joy, the stupidity. I was already obsessed with her, why not love? And why not me?

Well, I had a few sound reasons but if Christine wanted me then why would I want to hurt her? I certainly would not!

I sat up and pushed off the bed again. Why not just do whatever she wanted, enjoy being with her, enjoy her touch, her kisses. If she loved me then it was okay for me to want her right? It didn't make me beast or a scoundrel for letting my hands caress her feminine form while we kissed.

Maybe a little bit of a scoundrel because she was so innocent. She herself said she'd never been kissed.

I twitched realizing that meant I was her first; probably a good thing because I didn't know what the bloody hell I was doing. I wanted to just hold her against my body, run my hands over her skin, run my mouth over her skin, drink in her scent, devour her lips, play with her hair…I laughed at myself. Play with her hair? Like a child or something.

It had no place in my debauched thoughts; my thoughts of sex and release. Very, very tempting but the more I thought about it the more awkward it seemed. For instance, how to remove my pants? I knew how the mechanisms of sex worked but how to lead up to it I couldn't understand.

Take off all your clothing please. Yes please all of it. Excuse me while I remove my pants. Not very charming at all…

But damn it, NO!

If I truly cared for her I would get her away from my lustful thoughts and dangerous hands. Let her find a life without a crazy deformed retired killer chasing her for attention and marking her body. How could I even think of stealing her for myself, hoarding her to myself?

And yet…how could I not think it?

She was everything I ever dreamed of and everything I needed all wrapped in one exquisitely breathtaking package. I could hide her away with me forever. She said she loved me and she did kiss me like she was drowning and I was her air...

The thought of her kisses sent me to the floor for another fifty push ups.

Could it be possible that no one was looking for her? What if she was as alone as I was? Could her and I really live peacefully beyond the reach of the human race? I liked to have her around me, in my kitchen, at my table, in my lab, in my arms and breathing my air. She was a constant relief from my dark memories, even though she brought many of them up. But didn't my past warrant no relief, no escape from the things I've done…

I lay down again, tired of thinking, tired of arguing with myself, just tired. I wished I could take my laudanum and sleep for a whole day. I wouldn't be able to care for Christine if I neglected myself but I couldn't leave her completely unattended while I dozed in a drug induced slumber.

I sighed deeply. I suppose I should have disclosed my sleep problems to her and figured it out before it got to this point but everytime I was in her presence my brain stopped working. Brainless, as she coined it and it was the truth. She made me feel so different from what I was used to and so hopeful. When I was with her I could be born fresh and new, cleansed and deserving of her love, if I would just allow it. But my mind warred against the new confidence and the new feelings. I did not deserve her but I continued to hope I could keep her. The possibilities of this relationship scared me through but I didn't want to stop her from loving me. There was always the chance that she would change her mind at a later date and if so, why not enjoy it now? Take what I can of a real life before the chance passes me by. It was easy to think it but to actually do it? Step towards her and take her in my arms…

I splayed out my hands above my face, flexing the long bony digits. What if I hurt her again? What if I really hurt her? I wasn't kidding myself, those bruises were not very bad but I just hated the fact that I'd put them there. I was capable of much worse and that frightened me. I lost control around her so often and knew one bad time would be all it took to scare her away forever or ruin her forever.

I pounded the mattress with my clenched fists. But what if we were meant for each other? I mean, who else but the woman meant for me would let me touch her with these ugly hands and look in my face with no disgust. Was this really meant to be? Did I honestly think I could turn her down? I did not want to, only knew that I should but then if turning from her would cause her pain then I really did not want to.

Restless, I got up from the bed again.

What if I let myself love her? Would I do it right? Could I make myself worthy of her? Would I fling her into the heavens and recreate her into my goddess as she made me feel godly? Or would I only take from her and destroy her innocence. Every time she touched me an urgent reckless passion rose in me and I was afraid I couldn't control it, afraid it would swallow me in darkness and then swallow her too.

I angrily kicked the pillows on the ground and stopped to stare at the fire.

Why was this so hard? Shouldn't it be easy? Maybe it was for other people but I wasn't normal at all…

I wasn't good enough for her but by some strange fate she felt something for me. I could not, would not, turn away from her when all I now wanted was her, her voice and laughter in my ears, her beauty in my presence. I stared at the flames seeing her move within them, my heart pumping solidly in my ears.

Yes. I will try to love her, if she still wants me, but I will be a gentleman. Our love will be innocent. I will not touch her but to hold her and possibly play with her hair.

I laughed a little and felt buoyed, my chest had that pressure within and my neck tingled. Descriptive words began to swirl through my head and I wanted to capture this feeling with prose. How to describe it all, the softness of her skin, the luminescence in her eyes, that untamed mass of curls.

I grabbed a candle from the candelabra and took it out into the dark sitting room. I scanned the empty room, every corner holding some memory of Christine. I glanced at her door and saw the faint glow under her door. No doubt she was asleep but I listened for a moment, not breathing, to hear if she was up and about. I couldn't hear a thing so I crossed to my writing desk and set the candle in a holder. If I wrote out the made urges and depraved thoughts towards her then maybe I could control my desire. If I channeled my desire for her into words I could purge my lust into the quill and cleanse it from me. Then maybe I could hold her and not want to plunder her womanly places. I ran my hands through my hair as I sat down. She was all I thought of anymore and the thinking filled me with good feelings. Feelings I didn't want to stop. I wanted to keep exploring the new emotion called love, just without any lust. That would be the trick for me. I picked up the quill to capture my thoughts. She made me feel so strong, so true. When she looked at me I was a good man, worthy of her but then she would touch me and I couldn't control my urges. Frowning I bent over the paper.

How to love her proper. That would be the secret. There was what I wanted which was highly indecent, what she wanted which she probably didn't even understand and what was proper. She wouldn't know, couldn't know, the things I wanted to do to her. I may have never been with a woman but I've thought about it plenty and now I have a sweet loving but innocent woman. This last week has almost been like a dream but as she said 'let me never wake from it'.

I should stop this before it got any deeper but I wouldn't. I was selfish and I wanted her with a childlike abandon that was quite unbecoming at my age.

I would hold her and love her as best I could but I would not sully her. I would not give in to my cravings for sex and my yearnings for her flesh.

_You give me the strength to bear my faults for you._

---

Christine

---

I woke with a start and turned blinking toward the light. My mind came blearily back to me as I stared at the pink marble showing through the door of my washroom, the frustration, the embarrassment and the mindless want for his touch.

I pushed off the covers suddenly too warm and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Why did I act so foolishly? I shivered at the cool air in the room, it was a sharp contrast to my sleep flushed body and I pulled the knit coverlet off the bed, settling it around my cooling skin.

I was thirsty and my tongue felt large in my mouth.

I could barely believe I'd declared my love to him. And he doesn't feel a thing for you, a voice whispered to me.

Well, he wanted me but was that enough?

I opened my door distracted by my thoughts and found Erik sitting at his desk surrounded by a small pool of warm candlelight. I instantly felt a hundred different things and then I felt empty. I was alone in this world and so was he and it was so stupid when we could be together. I had to apologize for my behavior and tell him whatever arrangement he wanted I would comply with but I didn't particularly want to do it half dressed. If he only desired my body then I shouldn't test his control by displaying it for him.

I blinked to clear the sleep from my eyes and watched the muscles in his shoulders moving as he wrote. I pulled the coverlet tighter around me as I realized that I could see his muscles. He was only half dressed himself!

Immediately I was wide awake holding my breath. I should leave him alone, apologize in the morning, forget the water, forget what I was seeing but I couldn't. My eyes were fixed on his back, part wonder at the exquisite whiteness of his skin and the defined muscle tone and part horror. Pale marks riddled his back and I couldn't understand how someone could be marked in that manner. They looked like old scars but there were too many of them and I frowned forgetting why I should go back to bed.

---

Erik

---

_Her skin begs my worship. She shows me all that light can bring_.

"Erik?" her voice froze me in place. Does my angel speak in my head? My brain missed several moments in time as I struggled with reality and then I turned to see if I'd imagined her voice.

No. I did not.

She was standing in the dim shadows by her open door, the crocheted coverlet from her bed around her shoulders, over her chemise. Her eyes were large and dark, her hair tumbled in disarray around her shoulders. My throat and stomach tightened as she stepped hesitantly towards me.

I stood quickly not sure what to do. I wasn't wearing a shirt for Christ's sake! My heart was beating a war rhythm in my chest and it was making it difficult to breathe.

"Can I be of assistance?" I sounded terribly frightened and abrupt and tried to tell myself to relax and calm down.

She stopped and looked down at her toes, thank GOD! I don't know what I would do if she came to me and touched me.

"I woke up thirsty," she said quietly.

"Of course, allow me," I bowed my head, trying to pretend I had clothes on. I walked briskly past her into the darkness of the kitchen and opened the cupboard with a trembling hand. What was I to do?

I felt like I had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Half of me wanted to just fetch her water and send her off to bed with a pat on her head. The other half was thinking entirely inappropriate thoughts of peeling the coverlet from her and worshipping her skin, telling her how she makes me feel, showing her how I want to love her. I shuddered as I turned back to her water in hand.

I jerked back because she was two steps away and I hadn't even heard her come up behind me because the devil in my head was so loud. Could see possibly see my evil but delectable thoughts on my naked face?

Don't be stupid fool.

I held out the glass towards her silently and she took it with a soft thank you. She seemed subdued and quiet, quite unlike the commanding woman of a few hours ago. She took a few drinks in the heavy silence while I twitched and tried to look anywhere but at her. Now was not the time for me to reveal my own confused feelings, I needed to apologize first but wasn't sure how to begin.

"What were you writing?" she asked sweetly and quietly enough that her voice didn't break the silence but somehow blended with it.

"Just words," I crossed my arms to cover the gleam of my naked chest in the dark of the kitchen.

"For music?" she took another drink while her eyes wandered down my body and back up.

"No," I couldn't think of anything to say when she looked at me like that. Why did I always act like I had no brains around her? Right, brainless...Granted she was practically naked so I would forgive myself for it this time and I didn't really want to tell her what I'd been writing about anyway.

"Poems?" she sounded interested so I tried to be more polite and give her a multiple word answer.

"In a manner of speaking," I noticed her legs were completely bare under the trailing hem of the coverlet and I knew it would take just a gentle tug to free it from her hands. Then I could warm her with my hands and my body and my lips…

Madness! I was simply mad for thinking these things! I turned away from the sight of her warm precious skin with my mouth suddenly dry. How was I to control my body when I couldn't even control my mind? I poured myself a glass of water and drank it back. As the empty glass clinked on the counter my back tingled with awareness. Her hand covered one of my shoulder blades and my muscles flexed unconsciously at her gentle touch. The other hand joined the first on my back and I gripped the counter as the hairs stood on the back of my neck.

She was touching me! She was touching my naked torso!

"Are these scars?" she whispered brokenly, barely audible, as her fingers traced the lines on my back. I swallowed hard before answering. It had been so long that I almost forgot the carefully laid marks were there but at her simple question I remembered it all, the humiliation and degradation and the all consuming rage, and now another sound reason for her not to be with me. Gentle bred ladies should not be with men who have such horrific scars, on their bodies or on their minds.

"Yes," I gritted my teeth because her warm little hands felt very nice on my cool skin.

"Who," her voice caught, "Who would do this to you?" she sounded trembly and sad, maybe scared too. I almost laughed bitterly but was feeling too much tension to allow such a thing.

"Everyone," I spat out angrily, "But that is the work of the Shah and his men." Her hands grazed over my twitching skin and my stomach quivered. "They didn't want anyone else's marks to be visible on my body so they flayed every inch on my back over the course of two weeks to cover my other scars." Her breath caught and I realized I probably shouldn't have been so blunt with her, she was a delicate creature.

"No," she breathed softly, her breath feathering along my spine. "No," her hair grazed my back and I closed my eyes as she pressed her cheek to my naked spine and her hands slipped like warm silk around my waist to hold me to her.

The coverlet had fallen to the ground and she was clad in only her chemise. Her breasts pressed softly to my scarred back and she was so warm and so inviting that all I wanted to do was wrap myself around her forever. The sensation of her body against mine roared through me, spiking my desire for her like a heat wave. I gripped the counter, my spine bowing forward as I tightened noticeably below the waist.

If I turned and grabbed her would she come willingly into my arms or would I scare her with the strength of my desire, of my need. I drew in a ragged breath. Bad Erik! BAD!

"Please," I choked out, "Let go." I said it rather harshly but could she blame me? I was about to throw her on my table and have my way with her right here in the kitchen. She deserved better then that!

Would I really be able to give her better then that? Could I ever be anything but violent?

Yes, of course I could! If she would just stop touching me!

She stepped away with a quiet stammered apology and I wanted to cry. If she still was in love with me I was doing a good job trying to get her not to be. I whipped around as she hurriedly bent to pick up the coverlet. She stood up pressing it to her front, studiously looking away from me as she stepped backwards a single step.

Scared. She is scared of you. Leave her alone. Let her go.

I had physical pain in my chest as she glanced at me quickly. The look on her face stopped my heart. It wasn't fear. It was rejection.

"I'm sorry, I always act so foolish around you," her eyes glistened and mine were not far behind.

"This is entirely inappropriate," my breath was hitched and uneven as I tried to think of things to calm my body.

"I know, Erik," her eyes stayed downcast as if I was rebuking her.

No angel, I want to love you but I don't know how…

"We are not wearing clothing," I felt the need to point out.

"I know, I'm sorry, I only wanted to comfort you!" two large tears rolled down her cheeks and I knew I was lost. I was making her cry again! What was wrong with me? Don't you want her anymore?

"Christine," her name was a sob, a plea, an entreaty and I reached out a helpless hand towards her not knowing what else to do. She looked up at me, her eyes moist in the darkness, her body trembling, whether from cold or emotion, I didn't know.

"Take my hand if you can forgive me," I said before I could stop myself and panicked for a moment that I'd done it too abruptly and she would get angry again but her eyes stayed on my face, solemnly, as if questioning what I'd said. I was so afraid. I'd never been this afraid before but slowly her hand rose and reached to meet mine. Our fingers touched tentatively and we stared at each other. A hundred decisions were made in one second and I should have walked away to save her from my version of love but it was too late for that. Our hands slid together, clasping tightly, both of us squeezing hard.

I took one step towards her, beckoned by the slope of her shoulder and arm. I ran my free hand up said arm and she shivered. Her arm was ice cold so I plucked the coverlet from her trembling hand and swung it around her back, careful to keep my eyes on hers. She clutched it around her and my hands rubbed briskly up and down her arms.

"It is I who acts foolishly around you," my lips trembled as I began my apology. "I don't ever want to hurt you but I'm so violent," I blurted and then pulled my hands away from her, clenching them into fists. "It's all I've ever known, I don't know if I can control myself. I may break your delicate bones if I hold you the way I want to."

Tears were falling from her lovely eyes as she shook her head, "You would never hurt me, Erik." My heart was in my throat helping to choke me. She was so sure of me; if only I could be so sure.

"I might," I whispered hoarsely as I wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Please, I can't bear that I make you cry."

I watched her make a visible effort to stem the flow of tears as one hand rose from the depths of the coverlet to cup my deformed cheek. The breath stopped in my throat as her eyes took me in. They were so large up this close, so full and so lush with feeling, the tender light of her soul balming me in peace. I could fall into those eyes and drown.

She wet her lips with a tiny slip of her tongue and I suddenly felt drunk.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she took a deep breath, "I had no right to say such things to you." Her lips began to tremble and I stilled them with my thumb. She turned her face into my hand with her eyes tightly shut and my heart thumped loudly in my ears.

"You have every right, ma chardonnerette," I didn't really know what to say.

She seemed to be shivering a lot so I used it as an excuse to not say anymore right now. Was she that cold? It didn't feel that cold to me and I was wearing less than her. Of course I was also used to my dungeon underground.

"You are shivering," I observed, "Are you cold?" I demanded. She started at my abrupt words but nodded silently. Without thinking I held out my hand.

"Come, the fire in my chamber still burns" only then did I realize I just invited her into my room. Where there was a large bed, big enough for two.

Good job, Erik. You can't admit that you have feelings for her but you can invite her into your bedroom.

Her eyes were wide but it wasn't necessarily fear, mine though were large from fear. What the hell was wrong with me? What if she thought I was inviting her for other reasons? I mean…I would love…but no…if she thought…

My rapid thoughts evaporated as she walked past me toward my chamber. My mouth dropped open in shock and then I snapped it shut and followed her.

I'd left the door ajar earlier so I simply pushed it open over her shoulder and ushered her in with a hand on the small of her back. I spared a glance at the bed which was still neatly made and escorted her to the divan by the fire. I could feel the heat from a few feet away and Christine shuddered with something like relief.

I dropped my hand from her back and her lashes lifted to reveal her golden eyes, peering at me over her shoulder. I was suddenly very nervous.

"I…I'll be right back," I took a step back, "Please make yourself comfortable," and then I turned and had to restrain myself from running out of the room. Even when I reached the living room I was still breathing as if I had run.

She was in my bedroom, in nothing but her chemise, she said she loved me, she might still and she was in my bedroom.

I tidied up my papers and blew out the candle at my desk. At my door I did a few deep breaths to calm myself, reminded myself to be a gentleman, and then crossed the threshold.

---

Christine

---

Erik left his room with me watching the movement of the scars on his back. It just was not fair. How could he break my heart anymore?

People had actually whipped him and beat him methodically? I choked down the tears that threatened to spill and turned a slow circle. There was a bookcase full of trinkets and jewels, old books and artifacts opposite the wardrobe and in between them, his bed. It was the same rich black and red satin fabric, smoothed over the largest bed I'd ever seen. A shiver ran through me and I turned back to the deliciously warm fire. My fingers and toes and my nose were chilled from the air but it was my heart that felt cold. I'd tried to hug him in the kitchen and he'd been stone cold, so icily cold that I'd thought I was dreaming. How could anyone's skin be so cold? He had no warmth to him at all and I wanted to warm him, press myself against him until some vestige of warmth could be felt. Then he bade me let go, like he wanted no such thing from me.

I sat down slowly on the divan with a sigh. He was tossing my heart about like a plaything and I don't think he even realized it.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't turn and look at his bed. I wouldn't think about how much I wanted to curl up next to him and warm him. My heart thumped with anticipation as the firelight danced on my eyelids. I'm sure he only invited me in here to warm me but still I felt nervous.

When he came back what should I do? Should I just sit with him and talk and then go back to my room? We did have a lot of things to discuss. Such as, when are you going to open your eyes and see me standing in front of you? Should I pry his eyes open for him?

I heard movement and opened my eyes to find him. He'd put his oriental robe on and was walking towards me, fluid, calm and graceful, as my heart began to echo in my ears. He crumpled to the ground leaning back on some pillows like he usually sat on the ground, the pillows also supported that theory.

"Are you warmer?" he asked with a little smile and I smiled with him.

"Yes, thank you." His joy made me happy, so why could I not make him happy? The crackling fire became the only noise and I swear I could hear words in the sound.

Touch him.

Show him.

I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out to calm myself, as I looked at him. At least he confessed to wanting to hold me, though part of me knew I should be frightened by his confession. He was worried he might break me in his exuberance but little did he know, I wanted to be crushed to his body.

He was sitting there against those multi-colored pillows looking so irresistible and I wanted to put my hands on him.

Why not? He liked it earlier. But I should warn him first of my intentions.

---

Erik

---

Her fingers were fiddling with the coverlet as if she was nervous. Did her being in here with my bed make her nervous?

"I'm nervous," she whispered ever so quietly as if she could read my mind. My entire body tensed because if she was nervous she was uncomfortable and I didn't want her to be scared in here. I made my voice as soothing as my tension would allow.

"There is no need for nerves as I have no intention of asking anything of you." It was not very subtle but once you've been molested, sexual or otherwise, it's always on your mind. I knew. It was why I always flinched when she touched me, I couldn't help but expect the fall of a weapon or fist. My bed also took up a large amount of space and could appear intimidating but I like to sprawl when I sleep.

"It's not what you would ask that makes me nervous," she looked at me slowly, trailing her eyes from my bare feet up my legs to my robe, my chest and finally my face. The slow perusal locked the breath in my body. I was frozen in place by the look in her eye. "It's what I want that makes me nervous."

I swallowed, hard and tensed now for an entirely different reason.

"I don't understand," I said it but maybe I did understand that look in her eye.

Her eyes held mine as she slowly slipped the coverlet off her shoulders and it pooled around her derriere where she sat on the divan. I sat up straighter.

"What are you doing?" my voice was husky now as I tried not to notice how golden her skin was in the firelight against the white of her chemise. I tried not to notice that I could make out the shadow of her figure beneath the unflattering line of the cotton, the cotton that ended at her knees, her bare legs, curved and delicate, the extra lace at her breasts that covered them from my prying eyes. Oh no, I didn't notice any of it.

She slid off the divan onto the floor across from me and reached out to trail her fingers up my bare foot. Heat rushed up my body.

"I want to touch you," she said softly.

Touch me! I felt dizzy and disorientated. Was this really happening? She crawled towards me and my stomach tightened. She looked like a predator for one second as her eyes lifted to mine and then fluttered down. My mouth went dry and I splayed my hands on the carpet to steady myself as the full meaning slapped me. She was going to touch me right NOW!

Christine knelt beside me, her marvelous hair looking both light catching and shadowed as she tossed it over her shoulder and smiled. I was scared. She looked so happy and I had no clue how I put that happiness there. Her smile faded and she bit her lip.

"Do you want me to touch you?" she frowned a little and I panicked and nodded quickly.

"Yes," I stopped myself from saying it over and over with my head bobbing like a fool but still I had my doubts. What if I couldn't control myself? What if I embarrassed myself? What if I hurt her?

She began to smile again and lifted her hand to touch my chin gently. I closed my eyes against all the 'what ifs' and concentrated on not flinching as her thumb stroked the base of my ruined skin. Slowly, between one breath and the next she slid her palm up to cover my cheek and pressed her forehead to my temple.

"Oh Erik," my name whispered from her lips was the sweetest sound and I was suddenly lost in a sea of her rose scented hair and her warm sweet breath. I conflicted within myself wanting her with a drowning intensity but also fearing what I would do. Strung tightly between two choices, I was a man of lust and desire ready to turn and take her mouth and a child scared and unsure with the angel's hand as I mask for my deformity. I wanted to weep at her bosom and nuzzle her bosom all at the same time. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on not moving as her fingers slid to trace my hollow cheek, my ear down my jaw following the contours of my crooked face. She pressed her lips, soft and yielding to my smooth cheekbone and my lashes fluttered, my spine tingled and my fingers curled in the rug.

She wants you. She wants you, my heart hammered at me.

She wants to touch you. She wants to love you.

Take her, the darkness whispered. She wants you to grab her.

Take her.

Take her.

I was suddenly shaking with the effort to not touch her and she pulled back to search my face.

"Erik, are you okay?" her hand still holding my ugliness.

"What…what do you want me to do?" my voice was unsteady as I floundered in my desire.

Christine pulled away and it was a little easier to breathe. Her hands fiddled with her curls and I watched her look down at her lap.

"I don't know," her face flushing prettily, her voice a small whisper as she continued. "I don't know anything about being with a man."

Everything stopped, the thud in my chest, the heave of my lungs, the blood to my brain.

I was the man she was being with!

---

Christine

---

I concentrated very hard on my fingers braiding small pieces of my hair nervously together. I can't believe I just said that! I practically said I wanted marital reunions! But I couldn't stop myself. I was crazy over him. I was as if every time we touched my feelings for him grew inside me, pushing outward until I couldn't hold it in anymore. It would burst forth, shining and pure to envelope him and I together.

The love for a father is a far cry from this obsessive, blinding, all consuming passion that I felt for Erik. I was scared and nervous but none of it mattered. I knew nothing of sex except what the girls had told me, but if he wanted me, he could have me, whatever it meant. I was completely and utterly, unabashedly in love with him and only wanted to gain his love in return. I couldn't hold back any part of myself in this battle for his heart and with new resolve I raised my eyes to find him staring at me as if not sure what to say.

Maybe he and I try to talk too much.

Maybe I should just jump on him.

Maybe once he's held me as man and woman he will learn to love me.

---

Erik

---

Her eyes rose to mine and I knew I had to say something but she beat me.

"I love you, Erik," she whispered over the crackle of the fire, her eyes full of hope. My mouth opened about to repeat her words but what did I know of love? Her eyes hypnotized me with their golden depths flickering as if she burned inside. They caught the firelight so perfectly and I stared at her, believing that she really did love me in all my monstrous glory.

She sighed and looked away, "It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

Alarm bells clanged in my head. Hello? Idiot? Grab her and tell her!

Panicked I grabbed her by the waist, her incredibly tiny waist…

"Christine," I choked out past the lump in my throat but I could feel the give of her flesh and it was filling my head with delirious thoughts. There was only a thin layer of cotton between me and her body and the darkness laughed joyfully through my head.

She is yours already. Do whatever you like to her…

"Christine," I said again to remind myself, unable to form complete thoughts anymore. I pulled her awkwardly to me and she pushed up so she was kneeling by my side her hands on my shoulders, her hair swinging forward to tickle me. I slid my hands down to her hips, perilously close to her bottom and my fingers tightened. "I want you," I growled, the sound trickling from my throat in a moment of weakness.

She touched my forehead, brushing the hair back to study my face. Her eyes were a little wide but she looked eager and so loving…

"I know," she said in Swedish and I was surprised I still had the mental capacity to understand her as she bent the short distance to my mouth and kissed me. Her kiss was so gentle but I didn't understand how to be soft, I only knew how to be hard. My hands rode up her back under her hair to hold her where she was as I delved into her mouth. One hand tightened on the back of her neck and I could feel the knobs of her spine against my cold palm. She felt so fragile that I thought randomly that she would be easy to break. A terrible image played through my mind and I pulled away with a gasp.

"Je ne peux pas," I rasped not realizing what language I was using. A tremor walked down my spine but her hands swept through my hair and she cooed at me, rubbing her face on mine, making my eyelashes flutter in defeat.

It felt so good…

Her lips were suddenly on mine again and my grip on her tightened once more as my grip on sanity loosened. She was so soft and warm and she smelled so tantalizing. One hand slid down the curve of her back, feeling everything it could and fisted in the fabric of her chemise at the base of her spine. I kissed her greedy and breathless with desire, completely out of control and she seemed to melt against me. She leaned her body against mine alluringly and the shift of weight sent us falling over onto the pillows. She fell on my chest with a small whoop of laughter and I stared at her sparkling eyes with that consuming pressure in my chest, threatening to shatter me.

How could I resist wanting her? How could any man resist wanting her? I may have to keep her locked up down here because every man that saw her would want her and yet she was with me now. She loved me. Her beauty, her intelligence, her laughter and pain, all mine to share with her.

Her hands were flat on my chest and I wished I hadn't put my robe on. I wanted her hands to explore me, I wanted to roll her over and make love to her, but I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't ruin her. Though her heart had chosen me, I could never marry her, I had nothing to give her except for myself and that was a small thing indeed when compared to what another man could give her, security, a home, a life, a name. I wanted to snarl at the thought of giving her to another man but would she really be content to be my underground mistress? My brain kept spewing all these things at me but I stopped listening to it. She was with me now and her body was pressing down on mine and I wanted to just swim in the sea of her love. We would work things out.

I rolled her onto her back and she laughed again, just a tiny giggle but it filled me with such feelings that small happy sound. I could never bring myself to defile this sweet precious angel but maybe I could give her pleasure…

There were ways to pleasure a woman without taking her maidenhead. I bent my lips to her cheek and nuzzled and kissed her while my fingers played into her hair. Her hands began to slide over my chest, down my ribs pulling me towards her as I lost myself at the hollow under her ear. The skin was so soft on my lips and the scent was driving my wild. I wanted to lick and nibble on her earlobe but stopped myself and kissed my way to her eyes and nose, down to her mouth again. That I could lick. Suddenly my robe loosened and fluttered open and I pulled away in surprise.

Christine bit her lip hard and then turned to look at the fire, a rosy blush suffusing her cheeks as her hands retreated to fold over her stomach. My eyes travelled down seeing the blush heated her neck and chest. I took in a not so steady breath as I noticed her shoulder was peppered with freckles. I licked my suddenly dry lips as my stomach tightened. Without even trying she could make me hot and aroused and desperate for her. I felt drawn magnetically to her skin and wanted to put my lips on it like it was a drug. It was what I needed. I needed to have my mouth on her like I needed to breathe.

---

Christine

---

I looked at the fire to try to collect myself, to not see that surprised look on his face like he was shocked at my lack of propriety. I was shocked myself and embarrassed with the strength of my desire for Erik. It seemed large and out of control and I was under its sway. I could think of nothing better than curling our bodies around each other and staying with him for the rest of the night. Would he think me a jezebel? Of course I probably already was because of the things I kept doing and the fact that my chemise kept riding up and I wasn't wearing anything underneath it. But I just didn't want to stop. There needed to be some sort of release for all this pent up emotion.

Orgasm. I remembered the funny word Meg and Julie had spoken. 'If everything is done right,' they laughed, 'the tension builds until both people orgasm. Sometimes only the man will and you'll be left unsatisfied but if he cares he'll make sure you enjoy yourself.'

I didn't fully understand what they meant but I was willing to try it with Erik.

His hand curled into my hair and he said something in French and put his hot mouth on my neck. My eyes fluttered closed and I wondered if he remembered I didn't speak French very well or did he forget everything in his desire for my body? His breath was hot on the curve of my neck as he pressed little kisses on my skin. He kissed his way to the end of my shoulder and I realized I didn't care. This felt too good to think of negative things. At least he felt something for me. He carefully slid the strap of my chemise over my shoulder and nibbled lightly where my collarbone rose to meet my shoulder. My hand rose to delve into his hair and hold his head in place, keep it connected to me because it felt too good to let him stop.

He kissed a hot trail up and down my neck and then he began to lick me. His tongue played along my skin, along my jaw and down my neck, licking and kissing across my collarbone and back up, sending shivers through my body. My breath began to come quicker and I realized his was too as his hand curved into my hair and he flicked my earlobe with his dangerous tongue.

His hand trailed slowly out of my hair and slid along my neck, tracing a line down between my breasts with one gentle finger to twirl around my navel. I arched into his caressing hand as he pulled my earlobe into his mouth and sucked on it.

I made a noise in my throat that was part groan and part his name and he released my ear. I brought my other arm around him and he slid his around my waist to draw me flush with his body. We stared into each other's eyes as we held one another close. His eyes were piercing, turbulent and heated, his body hard against mine. I ran my hand through his hair and I think I fell in love with him all over again as his eyes fluttered, like just that simple touch was too much for him.

"Tell me…" he trailed off and kissed my nose and then my mouth, taking his time tasting me thoroughly before he pulled back with a shudder. "Tell me to stop." His voice a low growl as his eyes searched mine deliriously. I started to smile.

"No."

---

Erik

---

No.

No?

No, she said while smiling a little vixen like smile.

There were voices in the darkness of my mind, an angel and a devil, encouraging and disciplining me. Strangely, the angel encouraged me as well.

She loves you…

Darkness blurred my vision and I could hear her little moans as I nibbled carefully on her chin, her jaw, back to her ear, to take it in my mouth and feel that soft little piece of flesh.

I growled thinking of other soft places I could explore on her body and she was not going to stop me.

No.

She said no and I all I could think was…

YES!


	21. Discoveries

---

Christine

---

We sank together into the pillows and I lost track of time as his tongue danced with mine. I buried my hands in his hair, pulling him close when he left my mouth to discover my neck again. Sometimes he would growl and pull me in tighter against his hard body and sometimes he would whisper things in languages I couldn't understand as he scattered kisses by my ear. A few times his tongue would dance over the shell of my ear and I would writhe in his arms. I loved it all.

Being with a man, being with Erik was beautiful and intimate, our bodies pulsing with life as he stole my breath with another searing kiss. My hands tried to wander over his shoulders and back but the robe was still on and I suddenly viciously wanted it off. I grabbed handfuls of his robe and pulled on it awkwardly, hoping to convey my desire without having to voice it.

His eyes came to mine, one eyebrow arched in question at the interruption of his exploration. Of course he was going to make me say it.

"Take it off," my voice was deeper and had a huskiness to it that made his lips curl ever so slightly.

Erik rose on his knees above me and I felt like he pulled some of my warmth with him as he did. I hugged myself briefly shivering as he yanked his robe off and tossed it carelessly behind him. His eyes were fierce peeking out from under his messy hair and the look made my mouth dry and made my stomach tighten. He knelt above me for one moment and my eyes shamelessly travelled down and up his torso. His lean, scarred muscled frame was colored like a marble statue, and shaped like one too. There was no mistaking the raw strength in his frame as the firelight flickered off the defined muscle and sinew across his shoulders and down his arms. The scars made him look like a warrior and he was dark and scary and sinful and I opened my arms to welcome him.

He smiled slowly and it was so rare to see, that it alone took my breath away. Then he took my wrists in his hands and placed them above my head. I was unsure of what was going to happen next and my breath quickened as Erik's eyes flicked down my body and back up. His hands skimmed down my arms, grazing the sides of my breasts, slowly curling around my small waist, sweeping over the swell of my hips and down my thighs through the thin cotton. I writhed against that gentle touch, my neck and back arching and his hands came back to my wrists to start again. They swept down my body as if to memorize the shape of it and my skin tingled in anticipation. When he reached my hips I almost said 'Again!' but I bit my lip to stop myself. It felt amazing when he touched me, so, so delicious…

His hands trailed down my body again and again as if he were molding me out of clay; arms, ribs, waist, hips, thighs, the caress of his graceful hands the most perfect touch I'd ever felt. I suddenly wanted him to see me naked and my heart thudded in my chest with fear and exhilaration.

"Erik?" I whispered and my voice was hoarse. His heated gaze met mine and I couldn't ever voice such a thing. I wasn't that brave but if he began to remove the last barrier I wasn't going to stop him. While I was shockingly thinking of being naked I remembered that I'd asked him to remove his robe and then he'd distracted me very thoroughly from discovering his body.

I pulled lightly on his arms and he came to me in the flickering light. I let my hands smooth over his shoulders and down his arms as he began pressing kisses on my neck and jaw again. My eyes closed in pure ecstasy as I let my fingers wander over him. His skin was smooth as muscled silk, disrupted every so often by a random scar except for his back which was one mass of scar tissue. I spread my hands on his back and held him tightly as he returned to my mouth. We kissed and tears threatening to spill and ruin this perfect moment. I clutched at him, kissing him as hard as I could, wishing I could erase every mark on his body.

He growled into my mouth at my sudden enthusiasm and his hands grabbed me roughly to press me to every inch of the hard length of him. He was very hard and I shuddered against him with the knowledge that I was making him that way. He pulled back and his eyes were closed as his hands loosened and then let go of me. Part of me wanted to pull him back and tell him not to stop but the other part, the little girl inside me was crying out that this was a sin and this was wrong and how did THAT go anywhere inside me. I told her to shush and tried to remember exactly what the girls had said about penetration.

I panted and stared at the stone ceiling, replaying what I could remember as I lay beside him and he gained control of himself. I wondered if he was trying to stop himself from taking my virginity and wanted to apologize but what would I be apologizing for. Sorry I make you want me? Besides if he was wanting to go slowly then I was not going to complain. Slow was fine with me.

After a moment his hands slid over my waist to pull me to him once more and I went willingly.

"Christine," he purred my name and his heavenly voice caressed me just as well as his hands did. We kissed and touched and minutes passed with no other sound but the sound of the fire and our love. At one point his hand skimmed down my side and his thumb grazed my breast. I couldn't breath for a second as I imagined his hands on my chest and then I turned my body just enough so his palm rubbed over the mound of my breast. I mewled into his mouth and arched myself greedily towards him, beyond thought. I only wanted him and whatever he would do to me. His touch had stilled at my wanton action and then he slid one thumb over one nipple.

It tightened quickly and I gasped at the sensation, like a purse string tightening at the end of my breast. Erik had stopped all other ministrations and was now solely focused on this new discovery. He rolled me onto my back and slid his one hand to rest directly under my breast. I arched gently trying to tell him to do it. Touch me.

He did. He cupped my small breast in his hand and my eyes closed. He didn't move for what seemed like forever, just content to hold it there and then his fingers tightened and he was kissing me again. He trailed hot kisses down my neck as he massaged my ribs around my breast, his hand not often sliding over it but when it did it would graze over it teasingly. Every time his palm traced over the taut nipple I wanted to grab his hand and smoother it to my chest.

Instead I twirled my fingers into his hair and wallowed in the pleasure of his touch. I noticed his head had travelled lower then it usually did and looked down just in time to see him close his mouth over my other nipple.

My shoulders pressed back and I gasped as the shock-wave of heat rocked my body. His tongue moved and the heat thrust through me, up and down, filling me with a warm tingly sensation. I held his head to my chest, my hand not moving in his hair, I think too shocked to move as he pulled and licked and I lost all coherent thoughts. My brain was blank of everything except his hot, wet mouth.

He sucked long and slow and I arched wordlessly, my hand slipping from his hair to press to the carpet so I could follow him where he was pulling me to. It was as if his mouth was pulling things much lower inside me. Deep inside me my stomach quivered as he released me and then returned, like he was hungry and my breast could sustain him.

Heat pulsed through me, tingling up my spine, over my scalp and down between my legs where I felt hot and wet, like his mouth upon my breast. I looked down at him, heavy lidded, and wondered what he was planning on doing to me.

---

Erik

---

I attacked her breast like it was a fruit.

A juicy fruit that needed sampling, and I was here to sample it.

I couldn't stop myself, so I kept taking it into my mouth, feeling the give of the soft flesh but the tautness of the end and the quiver of her body as I did it…

I was giving her pleasure.

But it was incredibly pleasurable for me as well and suddenly it didn't seem awkward to remove her chemise and strip off my pants.

Her body shuddered and she arched again, pressing more of her against my face and into my mouth and I lost more blood to my nether region, if it was even possible at this point.

I was painfully aroused and blackness swirled to take over.

I pushed up off her, panting, and looked up towards my light, my sunshine. She was staring at me but her eyes were full of a darker light and it did not help to push away the dark desire in my mind.

I fought with myself for a moment and she spoke in that husky whisper.

"Don't stop."

My body reacted like I'd just been whipped.

She wants you.

Take her…

I crawled up her body to her mouth and kissed her feverishly.

---

Christine

---

My heart beat like a wild thing in a cage as Erik's touch became harder and more demanding. I tried to keep pace with him, I tried but it was getting difficult to concentrate. I felt dizzy even though I was lying down, like I'd been spinning in a field.

I was throbbing all over my body, my throat and my stomach, my breasts and nipples were tingling, the one from manipulation and I suppose the other one from envy. My groin was throbbing slowly, out of sync with the rest of my body, but it made me all the more aware of it and I was barely aware of anything as Erik left my mouth to kiss along my collarbone again. His hand skimmed over my neglected breast and I arched like a greedy cat towards a caress but his hand continued over my stomach down onto my thigh.

I opened my eyes because colors were swirling behind my eyelids and it felt like my heart was trying to beat its way from my chest. It was all so much to feel…

It filled me up too full like my heart could burst from my chest and then everything stopped.

I forgot to breathe as Erik slipped his hand between my thighs, sliding up one side to place his long fingers against the moistness between my legs.

"Mon dieu," he whispered at my jaw, breathing hard and hot on my skin. I sucked in a breath as he moved his palm against me.

I thought I was warm before but now I was burning hot, like he could hold in my heat, like it could pool between my legs where he touched me. I felt suspended in the air, breathless at the edge of an unknown precipice and then Erik moved his hand and I gasped as I found myself upon the pillows by his fire. It seemed as if neither Erik nor I breathed for another moment, both of us suspended together and then he moved his hand again. I clutched at his shoulders lost in a sea of feelings and as if I were an instrument to be played my body began to move to the touch of his hand. I twitched and shuddered, arching my back to be closer to him. It was incredible, the way it made me feel to move with him and for him. Like when he sang and played for me and it could literally move me to my feet, now he made me move again. His touch was gentle and I had the urge to open my legs more. That felt wrong and yet so right all at the same time. Was this what the girls meant when they spoke of making love? Should I stop him?

I opened my eyes to stare over his rounded shoulder. I didn't know what to do. He was making me feel amazing but I wasn't doing anything for him and now I felt a little scared. My hands skimmed over his back and shoulders seeking solace from my fear, and down his arms to tug just a little on his exploring hand.

"Erik?" I whimpered with trembling lips and his mouth was on mine. His mouth was so warm and hard, the roughness of his birthmark familiar. I kissed him back eagerly, wanting to give him something good to feel, trying to ignore the blood roaring in my ears, pounding in my throat and throbbing into my nether regions. Erik's graceful, beautiful hand slid between my legs, touching me intimately and delicately and it was making me ache, making it very hard to remember how to kiss, making me hot and out of control and more and more…

I moaned into his kiss and he broke away from my mouth to whisper in my ear. I think he was still speaking French but I could barely hear him. I was dizzy, giddy, breathless and unable to control it. His body was pressed against mine and I liked the way it felt, so manly, so powerful, our bodies tight together, our hearts racing side by side, matching beat for beat. My eyes fluttered closed and I arched slowly under the control of an odd pressure that was building silently inside of me. I grabbed at Erik to distract myself and try to think but you could not turn away from these unknown sensations. They would not be ignored. They were everything right now.

I was making little noises, growly whimpering noises as the pressure built inside me to unbearable levels and I moved my hips, my body wanting something that would complete this feeling and then the feeling shattered through me, stopping my breath and the beat of my heart.

"Erik," I managed to breath out as my body spasmed, my stomach muscles contracting and buckling. I tried to hold onto him but he shuddered violently over me, the lord's name and mine torn from his lips in a gasp.

Just as everything had tightened, everything unraveled and I was boneless. My breath returned in a sigh and I wanted to giggle. The urge was strong but I curbed it and opened my eyes to a fuzzy world. I blinked several times to clear my vision as Erik smoothed his hands down my hips and thighs. My body squirmed as if his touch was an invitation even as my brain knew he was only putting my chemise back in place. I tried to remember why I'd been frightened of this. Surely it was the most glorious feeling…

"Christine," his musical voice called to me, drew me from my delirium and I focused in on his face. Well, on his scarred nipple, which I randomly thought about licking, up his lean muscular chest and then finally up to his face. He was still breathing hard but when I met his clear grey eyes full of concern I knew what we had done. He had to take me apart to make me his. That moment of stillness, our bodies had stopped and we'd called each other's names. Our hearts, our bodies now pulsed as one.

"Did I hurt you?" his voice was strained as he brushed the hair from my face and gently touched my cheek. I finally let loose my giggle and wanted to touch his face or put my hand over his heart to confirm what I knew but lifting my hand seemed to require too much effort.

"No," my lips curling at the notion that he would ever hurt me. His hand cupped my face and I turned into it, curling onto my side to be closer to him. "You would never hurt me, Erik," I spoke sort of sleepily as I drifted down.

---

Erik

---

She slept in my bed. I sat on the divan reading while she slept in my sheets and on my pillows. I could just see the golden spill of her hair on the black satin. Funny how her hair had looked so dark against the white of her cotton chemise by the fire and now it looked like sunshine in my bed.

I squirmed where I sat thinking about what we'd done by the fire. Mostly what I'd done but I say we because she certainly proliferated things. I also had nail marks on my shoulders and I'd ruined a perfectly good pair of pants.

I thought I could control myself but when she'd climaxed, the feel of her body spasming next to mine as she uttered my name in the throes of passion had undone me. My face reddened. Thank God she didn't notice. She didn't notice much after that. I smiled as I recalled how she'd turned to jelly afterwards, all sleepy and dreamy. The smile faded because if I'd been able to control myself better I would have held her, rocked her in my arms, whispered sweet things in her ear and then carried her to my bed and slipped into the sheets with her.

Instead, I'd carried her to bed and tucked her in alone and then I'd gone to clean myself. My face heated again. She gave me release without even touching me. Powerful Aphrodite.

I found myself staring at her hair again. I should have joined her in bed after changing but I kept hesitating, giving myself stupid excuses. She might wake startled to find a body beside her and my face wasn't exactly easy to look at. Better I just wait until she wakes and then join her. Surely she wouldn't sleep that much longer.

I stayed on the divan not really reading the book and a smile spilt my lips. Being with a woman was everything I imagined it would be, beautiful and breathtaking, sensuous and heady. Our modest amount of clothing had stayed on and still I felt as if I knew every curve of her body. My hands and mouth had explored while she whimpered and sighed, moaned and cried out. Her own hands had explored my skin, touching me with a possessiveness that made me warm inside. I hadn't realized the woman did so much when the man made love to her but it had felt so damn right to have her squirming and making noise. What did I know after all? Absolutely nothing! Well…

Now I knew. I knew what her skin tasted like, what her nipples felt like through the lace, the wet heat of her mouth and loins. I shuddered just thinking about my hand between her legs and the slide of her hips, her grasp on my shoulders and arms. I rubbed my hand briskly over my face and tried to concentrate on reading.

Was it terrible of me to want her again, this fast and this soon? To think of nothing but her ripe body and delicious mouth. Would there be a next time? I hoped so…

She moved in her sleep and suddenly I could see her face. Her hair spilled out behind her and over her shoulder, her arm looked pale against the black and her face…the perfect nose and mouth framed by porcelain smooth cheeks and those eyes…the captivating tones of liquid gold that had the power to pull strings deep inside me. They were closed now, their sway over me, for the moment, at bay.

Her beauty had struck a chord in me from the very first moment but now as I looked at her I wasn't just thinking of how beautiful she was. I was thinking of her inquisitive intelligence, her sparkling laughter, her gentle touch, her obvious care and concern for me…

I closed the book and laid it down. I hadn't read a word. I slid my feet back and forth on the floor but still didn't have the courage to go to her.

It was no longer a wonder to me that her father had kept her all to himself for so long. She was a gem, a treasure, every favourable and redeeming quality wrapped in the most exquisite package. It was highly unusual to not even have a prospect of a husband at her age but he'd been a hermit, his precious perfect daughter his only companion. I leaned over resting my elbows on my knees and clasped my hands together.

I have not prayed in a long time but something made me send a quick prayer to Gustave Daae. I swear I will protect her until the day I die.

I looked at my clasped hands, hands that had traversed her body, touched her womanly flesh, the endlessly long fingers all knuckle and bone and pale skin, the ever ready memory of blood on them and washing that blood off of my skeletal hands.

The evil traitorous voice in the back of my head whispered to me. Can you protect her from yourself?

I closed my eyes. Was my love going to ruin her? Was I taking this precious angel and breaking her into a creature that no one would recognize? Such an angel should never be forced to live underground in such darkness or with someone who is so dark, someone who knows the darkness intimately, someone who wants to hold her there against the darkness and drink up her sunshine.

I dropped my head into my hands.

NO! I screamed at myself. She said she loved me. She just allowed me to touch and taste all her most intimate of places. She is mine! From now on she is mine. I might have wanted her beyond anything I deserved but she reciprocated my desire and now she's mine; mine to love and adore and protect and care for. I don't need to protect her from me because she loves me. That means all of me. Every dark, hopeful, stupid, horny, scared part of me.

---

Christine

---

I was hovering between sleep and wakefulness, that place where you cling to the oblivion of sleep though you know it's pointless. I reached out for something or someone and finding nothing but the bed I turned over and was suddenly fully awake. I lay very still with my eyes still closed because my actions had confused me. Half asleep I'd reached out and finding nothing I'd felt profoundly disappointed. That overwhelming feeling had shot me out of my purgatory of sleep because it was so unusual. Why would I expect…Erik.

That one thought, one name made my heart start to beat a little faster. I felt a blush rise up my face as I remembered our love by the fire, our hearts beating together. Erik should be here with me right? Julie said a man who cared about you would be there when you wake. I opened my eyes to the black satin. Erik should definitely be here. I was in his bed and he was sitting on the divan with his head in his hands, beautifully silhouetted by the fire. He looked upset and so tired, his back hunched with weariness. I wanted him to come join me but why didn't he in the first place?

I lay still a few more minutes and stared at Erik. He'd put his robe back on and there was a book sitting beside him. Why was he sitting up reading when he looked so tired? He could have come to bed and lay with me. I remembered how languid I'd felt after our love, like I was floating. Had it not been the same for him? I frowned as I realized I didn't DO anything that would have brought him pleasure. I began to panic. Did I disappoint him or now having had me once was he done with me? Did I hold no more allure for him? Did he regret what we'd done?

I sat up, suddenly scared, hoping the rustle of the bed covers would get his attention.

It did. He straightened and his eyes fell on me , the heat in them searing me straight to my heart. It was still there as if it hadn't been quenched at all and I trembled wondering what would quench that raging fire. He was intensely hungry for me, he burned for me, I could see it in his eyes but he'd stayed away. Why?

He dropped his eyes and then stood fluidly with his own musical grace and began to walk towards me. I scrambled for something to say except what do you say to the man who loved you and then let you sleep alone, the man who might be annoyed with your lack of knowledge in sexual encounters, the man who frightened and intrigued you and made your world explode into shimmering light and quiet sighs and was walking towards you, tall, strong, alluring, graceful, dark…

I clutched the sheet to cover my chest and swallowed hard.

"Hullo," I said huskily. Why was I being such a twit? Why was my stomach twisting and flipping with nerves? It was just Erik. Just the man you are hopelessly in love with.

"Hello, ma chere," his voice fell on my ears like a drink of cool water to a parched throat, like I had been waiting for him to speak for an eternity. I stared at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his bed, and he stared right back. Was I so entirely besotted with him that I couldn't even managed normal brain function and say something intelligent? And he doesn't even care enough to hold me as I sleep. I couldn't even imagine how frightened I looked at this moment as his hand rose to my face.

"How do you feel?" he skimmed my cheek with his fingertips and brushed the hair back from my face.

"Fine," I whispered sort of scared at how nervous I was, how nervous he made me, as he trailed his fingers over my ear. I shivered as he tickled the hollow beneath my ear. "Better than fine," I sighed outward, my body starting to melt towards him, inexplicably drawn to him as his fingers trailed into the hair at the nape of my neck. My hands forgot they were holding the sheet to my bosom and I found them skimming over his chest and shoulders. "And you?" I whispered our mouths only inches apart, his hand on my neck pulling me in and my hands over his shoulders, submissing completely. I don't think he heard me because the look on his face was so intent, so focused. I tried again though he was seconds from kissing me and I would never stop him from doing that. "You look so tired, Erik."

My eyes fluttered shut as he took my mouth. Heart and blood leapt to action and his arms came around me pulling us together. I hugged him hard, my hands in his hair, our mouths exploring what we already knew. He kissed me with such intensity, like he would die if he couldn't kiss me. I gave him everything willingly, wanting to crawl into his lap and wrap my legs around him, be as close as humanly possible.

And then his lips were gone, his body gone, just his hands on my arms to steady me. I peeled my eyelids open, muddled, to find him shaking his head.

"I apologize, my dear. That was rather abrupt of me…"

"It's better that way," I quickly tried to assure him, eager for another kiss and he looked at me startled. I was entirely embarrassed by his expression and looked away, down at the covers of the bed, letting my hair slip over my shoulder falling between us like an unruly curtain.

He didn't try to move my hair and I guess he of all people knew what it was to hide.

"What do you mean?" his voice very calm and quiet but my heart raced. He wanted me to explain what I didn't even understand, the way my body just reacts to his? I got flustered and my breath started coming in little pants as I tried to explain my inexperience and the draw I felt towards him.

"When you kiss me Erik," I told the blanket, "It feels so good, that it makes me forget where I am and who I am. All I can think of is the feel of your mouth on mine and your hands…" I trailed off fully embarrassed and hot, thinking of his demanding kisses.

He stayed silent letting me sort out my thoughts.

"I don't really know what I'm doing, I just react to you like I have no control over my body." I hoped I was clear but the way he suddenly let go of me made me peek through my hair.

"I see," he said quietly but I knew something was wrong with him, I'd said something wrong. He was suddenly humming with anger.

---

Erik

---

'I just react to you like I have no control over my body.'

I took advantage of my submissive little angel.

I should have realized when she told me last night that my kiss was amazing that something wasn't right. How could someone with no experience such as myself be an amazing kisser?

The truth was that she couldn't say no if I laid my lips on her and things had gone way further then they should have a few hours ago.

For me that time was something beautiful to be treasured for the rest of my life and for her it was something she'd done while not in control of her faculties.

I suppose I should be thankful I got even one time but now would she not be comfortable as my friend? She had been terrifyingly nervous and frightened before I just kissed her and then I did notice that she melted just like she always did. At least she said it felt good and it was not terrible for her. I could just pull her into my arms and make her forget herself again.

But what of her professed love? Tears burned in my throat but I gritted my teeth together and tried to hide behind the anger. Anger was good. Anger would fill me up because no other emotion even came close.

"Have a said something wrong, Erik?" she was timid and unsure, her eyes large and searching mine as I glanced quickly at her sitting so prettily in my bed.

I swallowed my anger down. I can't be mad at her when it's my fault, my fault, my lack of control, my raging attraction to her, my lust, my fault.

"There is nothing wrong in the truth, my dear," my heart thudded painfully along because I wanted her still. I could just grab her and kiss her until she melted but then I would be no better then a rapist.

I turned to retrieve my book and her voice was timid again.

"Are you angry with me?" I tried to laugh it off.

"No, no," I bent to lift the novel, "I never have cause for anger towards you." I walked around my bed to put the book back on the shelf and realized I'd now put myself on my side of the bed, the side that was barely rumpled because I hadn't slept there.

"Do you want me to go?" her voice was getting smaller and smaller as if she was shrinking behind me.

"No," I spoke softly without thinking, my hands bracing on the bookshelf.

"Do you want me to stay?" I just barely heard her and my fingers pressed into the wood.

"Yes," one word squeezed from my lungs.

"Do you still want me?"

My chest was so tight, I couldn't breath, I could never lie to her.

"Yes." She sighed as if relieved.

"I want you too," her voice came quickly and softly and my vision blurred.

"What?" Did I hear her right? I turned like a blind man. "Why?"

"Are you trying to embarrass me, Erik?" she was completely exasperated with me and I stood there like a cod fish. She rose from the black satin like a mermaid perched in the water. Her hair billowed around her shoulders like clouds of darkened sunlight and I was entranced.

"Come and lay down," she said it like it should be easy to do, patting the bed with one delicate hand.

I suddenly was staring down at the bed clothes wondering if I just leapt over here.

Could I control myself if I lay in my bed with her? Would she want me to control myself? Would that knowledge make control more difficult? Damn, I wish this brain had an off switch, then I wouldn't have to listen to all this background crap and make stupid assumptions about her innocent honesty with me. She wants me?

"You look so tired, Erik," her hand lay on the black fabric like a work of art, feminine delicacy against stark black. My eyes trailed up her bare arm to her mass of curls, to her upturned face. I could see the love in her eyes, the want for my attention and my touch all there in her sparkling eyes. She wanted me in bed with her. The thought made me tighten with anticipation. She wanted me, like this, scars, face and all.

She lifted her hand to me and I took it proud to see mine wasn't trembling. I put one knee on the bed ready to crawl up and over her and out of my skin.

"Wait!" she suddenly knelt and the sheets slipped away from her like the waves from the shore and she moved to kneel in front of me. How she could look so sweet and innocent when she knelt in my bed in her chemise and unraveled the knot in my sash, charming me out of my robe with a flutter of her lashes, I don't know. Blood rushed through my body chasing itself from one part to another and I felt dizzy. I stopped her from pushing it off my shoulders and closed my eyes, feeling like my heart was about to burst from my chest. I put both feet firmly back on the ground and Christine sat on her heels easily.

"Do you usually sleep with your robe on?" she asked innocently and I wasn't sure if she was being sincere or sneaky. Does it really matter, imbecile, with how much you want her to touch you?

"No," my voice sounded weak, no strength or command to hide behind. Her fingers trailed over my shoulders and then she dipped her hands under my robe to spread it open. I looked down, my chest white against her pale gold, white and hairless. I don't know why I didn't grow hair on my chest like other men but at this moment didn't care particularly.

Her hands skimmed down over my stomach and the muscles tightened. I absurdly wanted to laugh, was I ticklish?

She looked up at me, smiling sort of sweetly, like she was having fun and then rose in front of me, pushing her hands under the robe and helping it slide off my shoulders.

"I suppose you don't need this then?" my robe slid off my arms and pooled on the floor.

I wanted her. She wanted me. Why was I still fighting this? Because she means so much more to you than just this. She is not just a sexual adventure. She is your beacon in the dark. She is your musical mate. She is your sunshine.

She somehow managed to still be purely innocent as her eyes gazed up and down my torso and she bit her lip. She traced the scar that slashed through my nipple and I knew she wanted to ask but was afraid of the answer. Instead she looked at me with all that feeling in her eyes and my hands automatically reached for her.

I spanned her waist feeling how delicate and soft she was and she started to melt towards me but suddenly froze and pushed back.

"Did I scratch you?" she was shocked and I couldn't blame her. I'd been a little shocked myself when I felt her nails bite into my skin.

"Yes," I tried for nonchalance but it's hard to pull off when your angel scratches you in the throes of passion.

"I'm so sorry, Erik," her eyes begged my forgiveness and I shook my head, quickly cupping her face.

"There is no need to apologize, Christine. People can do such things when they," should I say it? "When they make love."

"Oh," she said quietly studying the marks she'd raked over one shoulder and then the other side where her nails had left lines down my arm. I thought she studied them a little longer then necessary and then her eyes rose to mine solemnly.

"Now, I've marked you." Her eyes were full of thoughts and questions but she broke our gaze and her cheeks started to redden. "You will have to teach me how to…ummm…" she trailed off and blushed even harder, making feeble gestures between us with one hand.

Teach her? To make love? I was suddenly painfully aroused and I lifted her chin to make sure she didn't look down at my straining pants.

Her beautiful tawny eyes gazed up at me and I felt warm and good and wanted and loved. I'd never felt this way before…

"Ma petite fleur," I leaned down to nuzzle her gently, "It is something to be discovered together." I trailed a line of kisses down her forehead over her nose and across her mouth to her chin and down her throat. She arched her neck back and it did nothing to calm the storm rising once more inside me. She had the power to control me, in every manner, in every form. I was hers and I knew it but still my head was telling me I was being bad and this could never work and I should stop and I should get her away from me but her hands slid up my back and she breathed my name and I smiled against her neck and told myself to shut up.

---

Christine

---

I wanted to wrap myself around his body to show him how I want to love him. I wanted to discover every inch of him just like he said, 'it is something to be discovered together'. I liked the sound of that. I slid my hands down to his waist to feel how narrow his body was, and how hard it was. His pale skin was seductively stretched over muscle and bone so it was abundantly clear he was strong if not very large. He was thin but not overly so, he was muscular and hairless and smooth except for the various scars and I wanted to explore him with my tongue. Heat flamed up my face as he nuzzled into my neck and ear whispering to me that I was a goddess of light and needed to be worshipped properly.

Exhilaration thrilled through me at his words and I giggled and held him close as he licked my ear.

"Uhh," I meant to say his name but the incoherent moan was all that came out. He had this pull to him that made me melt when he put his lips and hands on me. I couldn't think of how I was behaving because I couldn't think at all. But it was the best feeling in the world and I wanted him to feel it too. Could I do that?

I turned my face to his ear and his ruined cheek and began to place kisses on him, pulling him towards me wanting to please him this time.

"Christine," he growled at me, annoyed that I was interrupting his worship I suppose but I put a finger over his mouth and shushed him. I looked down at his body, so close to my barely clad one and shivered a little. The fire cast him in a dim light and it made him seem even more pale then he was, even more unreal with all the gruesome scars. I stared at the vee his body formed from his shoulders and chest to hips, the dark line of hair that ran from his navel into his pants and his arms corded with muscle in that low flickering light. I was nervous to be intimate with a man, nervous to do something I'd never done before, with a man who confessed he may break me. I didn't even have very much information about what to do but I tried to remember what Erik had done to me and thought it would be a good place to start.

"Can you let me just touch you for a few minutes?" I smiled a little as I leaned lightly into him slidding my hands up his scarred back to pull our bodies flush together. My breasts pressed against his torso and I kissed his collarbone. It was his turn to make an incoherent noise and I felt a little thrill at the sound. It urged me on and I rubbed my face along his neck lingering over the scent of him.

He smelled so good all the time, like this spice that you could almost taste on your tongue and the fresh scent of cedar from his clothing mixing in perfect harmony. No clothes on him now…

I sighed into his neck, kissing as I moved over his skin. My first lick was tentative but I reminded myself of how good it felt when he did it and my second one made him groan lightly. I let myself wander with complete abandon, trailing my fingers and then my lips and then my tongue over every scar on the front of his torso. I couldn't bring myself to make him turn so I could kiss his back because I was sure the sight of all that abuse on him would unravel me and ruin this moment.

When my fingers trailed over the long scar through his nipple I glanced at the other pale pink circle on his marble chest. Should I give him the same treatment he gave me?

---

Erik

---

There was a storm inside me. One of fears long pent up and desires denied, love and hope intermingling as she set fire to my body with her gentle explorations.

She made me feel so much, too much.

I was cast into her burning sun, blazing to death under God's scrutinizing eye, and I just knew he was looking down wondering how his wretched creature had wound up with his angel of light.

Fuck you she's mine now.

Christine's tongue suddenly flicked out and tasted my nipple.

I stopped breathing.

Her mouth was soft and warm and wet…

Covering me, licking me, pulling…

I cried out; an unlovely sound that spoke of passion, fear and insecurity.

She was mine. I thought it and closed my eyes as a powerful shudder ran through me.

My angel with the waterfall of hair and lighthouse eyes, calling me from the rocky shoals where I once had to live, taking me in, to find solace in her gentle hands and gentle heart.

"Did I hurt you, Erik?" and her voice, a melodic soft resonance in my ears.

"No," I made sure to answer, keep that brain working.

Her fingertips came back to me and I realized she'd completely let go of me. Was it bad that I didn't notice? My skin was just one big fiery sensation; if it could escape I think it would peel off me and run.

Her touch brushed my stomach and my body rippled in response.

I grabbed her hands and pressed them flat on my torso as I turned to finally take her in with my eyes, finally give in to the pull that resided in hers.

"Enough of that…" I growled.

---

Christine

---

He was so beautiful to look at, I couldn't seem to stop myself from staring in blissful awe as he captured my hands on his flat tight stomach. I could practically feel every separate muscle, like he had not one single bit of fat on him.

"Do you have any idea how you make me feel?" his angel's voice was huskier then usual but it was still like sweetened water, drowning my senses. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to not touch you all the time?"

Was it bad that I wanted to beg him to touch me?

He suddenly moved my arms behind me so I was leaned back with my legs underneath me and he half crawled over me, putting his knee on the bed beside me. His body rose over mine in the vulnerable position and my mouth went dry. A thrill of fear spun through my belly as his burning gaze wandered down my arched frame, like he would devour me with his eyes alone.

One of his hands left mine to skim the air beside my ribs. His hand swept only the air and I felt sort of strained in my position, my legs were going to start trembling soon but so much more important was his teasing hand not touching me. I would not beg...

I wanted him to take me firmly in his arms and make me forget the world again. Actually he didn't even need to take me in his arms to make that happen, all he'd had to do was talk to me and everything else in this place had faded to unimportant. He was the only important part, well, him and me together.

Him and me.

His body was suddenly around mine, both knees kneeling on the bed around my bent legs. His arms had taken my weight, slipping behind me to hold me close to him as he hunched around me. If I was turned the other way he could be sheltering me from an attack but this way I could hold him too even though it was a little awkward.

My hands trembled as they trailed over the marks I'd made on his arms and the marks the Shah had made on his back before I held him just as hard as he was holding me.

"Never leave me alone again," he purred in my ear.

---

Erik

---

I heard my voice but wasn't sure if that's what I'd meant to say. My arms tightened around her and I could feel her trembling. I set my mouth on her neck and she shuddered with a little sigh and I still found it fascinating that I did that to her.

I was powerful. I was a man. I was hers.

"You left me alone in your bed," I could tell by her voice that she was not happy with that.

"I could not ask your permission while you were asleep." I nuzzled the hollow below her ear.

"Aren't you…you tired?" her voice skipped as I kissed her cheek.

"Yes," I wanted to curl myself around her and fall asleep. Sleep. Right. Brain back on.

I pulled back from her soft womanly smelling skin and blinked at her like I was coming out of a trance. Her hands feathered through my hair with a pronounced tremble and I realized I was pinning her in quite an awkward position.

I lifted her up the bed and pulled the blanket up over her. I needed to tell her about my sleep problems and to keep from being distracted I left myself on top of the blankets, tucking one arm behind my head as I lay beside her.

"I have not slept since Thursday morning," I began and she rolled closer, laying on her stomach.

"Because of me?" she sort of asked as she gathered her hair over her shoulder and propped her chin on her fist.

"Perhaps a little, but mostly it's me." I swallowed. If we were to sleep together more than this one time I had to tell her and I didn't want this to be a single occurrence. At least give me a few weeks of heaven before I'm cast into hell again.

"I've never been able to sleep well. I believe my mind does not enjoy being turned off and even when I do manage to sleep it conjures…um…I suppose you could call them nightmares though I assure you I do not have dreams of monsters in the wardrobe." No, I'm already the monster. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, twisting one of her curls thoughtfully around her finger, her brow furrowed in concentration. I hurried to finish, get it all out before I get distracted by her proximity.

"So on top of my natural restlessness, my added incentive to not sleep is spurred by apprehension. Since my mother used to give me laudanum to put me to…"

"What?" Christine jerked abruptly, looking incredulous. "She gave laudanum to a child?" her voice angry. "The more you tell me about that woman the more I want to…" I stopped her tirade with my fingers on her mouth.

"I was a beastly child and my mother had no idea how to handle me let alone a desire to handle me. The past can not be changed, Christine. What is done, is done." Her eyes immediately went from fiery to apologetic and she deflated onto my chest, laying her head there as her curls fanned over my face.

"I'm so sorry, Erik," she sobbed and my lashes fluttered against her wayward curls as her arm came over my stomach to hold us together. Every coherent thought left my head as her body pulled flush with mine. It was a full body hug with her breasts pressed to my ribs, my hip in her stomach, her pelvis against my thigh and if the blanket had not hampered, I'm sure our legs would have tangled.

I stayed motionless just feeling the glorious press of her body. It was wondrous. This was the best feeling in the world, this intimacy and trust, love and friendship and all the touching…

I took a long breath finding room inside me for all these new feelings. I was content to lay here with her forever. I brought one hand up to brush some of the curls out of my face, I liked it but I needed to breathe too. Once my hand was on her head it didn't want to go back and I began to stroke her hair slowly.

After a few minutes I realized I'd been trying to tell her something. I reached back in my head and found nothing. Only happy thoughts of Christine laying her head on my chest and me playing with her hair. I laughed a little and she looked up at me, sliding her head into the crook of my arm. Her loving eyes staring into mine certainly didn't help me remember either.

"What was I speaking of?" I asked with a little smile, not embarrassed to let this Goddess know how much power she had over me. She should be aware of her greatness.

"Sleeping?" she replied with an answering grin.

"Or the lack thereof," I started and then recalled I was trying to tell her I was a laudanum addict. Of course, can an addict go without? Maybe addict was harsh. Abuser, maybe?

Christine's hand slipped up to my face, "That look?" she whispered, all laughter gone from her face, she searched mine as her hand caressed my jaw. "What is it, Erik? What makes your smile disappear so fast?" her voice and hand were both so soft and intimate.

I blinked at her as her hand continued to curl into my hair and sweep its way down and around back to my neck and jaw. Everything slowed as I blinked and fought the darkness beneath my lashes. Blackness filled my vision and heat rushed up my body until every fiber of my being wanted to be connected to hers.

Need pressed me. Devour her. She is giving it freely. Why else would she be in your bed, holding you?

She was crazy for trusting me.

I pulled her roughly up and onto my body, until our noses were touching but she didn't look scared at the sudden change in position. She looked eager.

My hand rode up her back as she spread her hands on my face. She felt so good pressed against me that I closed my eyes to fend off the violent urge to roll her over and empty myself of everything except the feel of her body beneath mine. Empty myself of thought and emotion, memory and pain, nothing but the desire to fill me. Nothing but her. I fought to gain control of myself and don't know if I would of won because she chose that moment to press her lips on mine. I froze, terrified for her and she started to pull away but I didn't want that either. With a groan I fisted my hand in her chemise and hair and set my trembling lips on hers in a soul searing kiss.

I lost myself to my violent desires and to the darkness. Somehow I rolled her over and my leg was between hers and then she was crying out my name as I delved my tongue in her ear and time was slipping from my mind as I craved the feel of her naked skin underneath me. My heart beat frantically as I pulled away from her intent on tearing the god damn blankets…

My angel was panting, her lips swollen, her body trembling…

"Did I hurt you?" I had to ask. I felt so violent inside my head and couldn't remember how I'd ended up on top of her. She also seemed to be afraid but only slightly.

"No Erik," she panted and tried to catch her breath. "Why do you…keep asking me that? Have you…have you hurt women before? I understand if you had to do it…" I pushed away from her suddenly burning hot with shame.

"I've never touched a woman before," I slid my legs off the bed, feeling so ashamed of myself and the life I led so far. My body was fully tensed, like an adrenaline rush but hotter then that. I gripped my knees, clenching and unclenching unconsciously. It hurt to have her think me capable of hurting women, of course I kept thinking that I was going to hurt her so I suppose I made her think it.

"It was only men I killed, some unfortunately young men," and you were what? Seventeen, eighteen yourself? "But I assure you they were all trying to kill me." Why was I defending myself? As if she could understand how killing had made me famous.

The bedclothes rustled as if she was sitting up behind me. I didn't turn around because I had to think. I couldn't manage to when she touched me and I needed a second to collect myself. I really was not used to having to problem solve in these conditions.

All I wanted was to make Christine happy. Was I capable of that? I looked down at my feet that rested on my robe. I hoped so. I was, after all, the only one here with her.

---

Christine

---

He was sitting on the bed very carefully, holding his knees, back straight. My eyes lifted to his scars, the white shiny lines spread out like brushstrokes covering every inch of the canvas of his back. I wanted to touch him but I gripped my knees hard.

Sometimes I felt like he wasn't himself for moments at a time, like he could lose his mind and come back to it at will. Right now he was breathing very carefully in and out as if trying to contain and control himself. His fear of injuring me was beginning to make me nervous. Did he really think he would break my bones or strangle me if he lost control?

I looked down at my knees again and felt the mattress shift as Erik leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

"I am not a good man, Christine. I've done many horrible things in my life, things I will never tell you about." Tears filled my eyes at his sad tone and I rested my cheek on my knees to look at his bowed back riddled with whip marks. "I tried to tell you a few minutes ago on top of everything you already know I'm probably addicted to laudanum," he laughed but it was an empty sound. "Lord knows I haven't slept without it in over five years. The only problem is I have to keep increasing the dosage and sometimes it knocks me out for ten or twelve hours and so I haven't been taking it at all lately because of..." he paused and seemed to collect himself more. He sat up straight and cleared his throat. "We need to figure out when I can sleep because after a few more days of this I will be no good to you and probably will lose my mind. That is, if you still want to stay here with me," he said quickly. "I understand if you do not wish to anymore, why would anyone wish to live down here with this darkness, but if you are still going to stay I would like to try to sleep normally just holding you in my arms but I may wake up screaming and scare you half to death and I don't want you to have to deal with me in that state and you probably want to get out of here anyway. I swear I won't try to stop you and force you against your will or…"

"Erik," his name was torn from my throat, "Stop talking!" I couldn't think straight with his voice in my ears, humming through me like I was a giant tuning fork and he was hitting me over and over again with his voice. He turned around and his eyes were raw with emotion. I felt raw myself. I didn't ever want to be away from him and didn't like even hearing him talk about it. I truly wanted to stay in his arms in his bed all night regardless of propriety or of whether it made me a whore or of how scared I was that he may 'break me'. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I scrubbed them away angrily. I wanted to be strong right now but the tears still fell down my face as I crawled to him.

I touched his back lightly running my fingertips down his shoulder blade. With everything that he made me feel why did a little fear of him matter. I was scared of other things that never made me feel as good as he did, being alone for one and the dark another.

I knelt beside him and looked up at his face feeling very much like a small child, my chemise tangled in my thighs, my heart hammering, part scared, part excited.

How could I look into his malformed face and withhold anything that I felt for him? How could I withhold the very emotions that had been withheld from him his entire life? How could I look into his eyes, so raw, burning inside with how he felt for me? His eyes that sent heat flashing through my body with one raw look, his beautiful mournful grey storm cloud eyes…

I ducked my head to hide from those amazing eyes and it left me staring down the slope of his back. The lash marks crossed each other with terrifying precision all down his white back, some the pink of ruined skin, some flat and some raised. He stayed very still and quiet allowing me to make my decision now that he'd spoken his piece.

I'd never felt so many things all at once, needing and wanting, scared, excited, sad, hopeful. How was I supposed to deal with all these emotions and think clearly? I knew if Papa were still alive I would have no confusion. I would have the safety of my father, but he was gone, dead. All I had now was Erik and I was not so scared of him. He had been mostly gentle with me last night. And I couldn't ignore the overall feeling of rightness that I felt when I was with Erik. It never faded regardless of his mood or mine.

I lifted a hand to trace the knobs of his spine, slowly from his neck down through his scars and he sat up straighter and straighter as my hand moved down his back. A quiver of nerves rushed through my stomach as I put my nose to his shoulder, my hair sliding forward to tickle him. He smelled so familiar and good, so comforting that my eyes fluttered shut. I kissed him lightly on the curve of his shoulder.

"I want to be with you," I whispered against him, his skin so cool under the touch of my lips that I wanted to cuddle him under the blankets right away.

His fingers grazed the hair falling to cover my face and I was embarrassed. What do I know of intimate relations? Nothing at all except what he had taught me already, and I wanted to learn more. I wanted to be with him tonight and every night into forever.

He brushed the hair back, tucking it behind my ear and tilted my chin up until our eyes met. He asked without a word if I was sure, his eyes searching mine and I reassured him of my decision with a tiny nod. Then slowly, as if by magnetic attraction he leaned down to me and I stretched up to meet him. Our lips touched briefly and we paused, so close to each other.

I waited for him to grab me and demand from me, to make me react to his passion without thought, but it never came. His mouth covered mine softly and yielded to mine just as mine yielded to his. His touch stayed tender and soft as he cupped my face with both his hands and sought my mouth once more, holding me like a breakable chalice, taking delicate tastes of my mouth. He kissed me with such open wonder and discovery, so sweet and innocent when I had thought there couldn't be any innocence left in him. This loving seeking, questioning kiss pulled at something serious deep inside me and I felt like I was being pulled up through my body and into his. My hands sought out his skin and my nails bit into him once more. I wanted to crawl into his lap and wrap my legs around him, be as close as possible, two becomes one.

I pulled back from his mouth with a gasp and tried to steady myself. I thought his fiery passion was hard to handle but this gentle tenderness pulled responses from me just as easily. I blinked at him with new tears forming in my eyes.

He never spoke to me of love and maybe he couldn't recognize the emotion. Maybe because he'd never been taught what love was or how important it was to say those words he never said the words to me but in his kiss, I felt his love. In his hands as they cupped my face or trailed over my body, hard or soft, I could feel his love.

I covered his birthmark with my hand as we gazed into our souls, sheltering his ruined skin with my palm. For once he didn't tense at my touch and instead his lashes swept down almost bashfully. I slid my thumb over and across his crooked lip and his lips twitched into a tiny smile. I hoped one day that he would smile fully at me.

He stood slowly, my hand slipping from his face and I slid off the bed to follow. Where was he going? Did he not like me touching him like that? Why didn't he say anything?

We stood staring at each other as panic edged around me. I should just say something but his eyes traced my features and travelled down the length of my body to my toes, like a caressing hand. I shivered and watched his malformed face with trepidation. What was he thinking? Why wasn't I just asking out loud? Was I so struck dumb by him?

He reached up and touched my hair, the rumpled curls having seen better days, but he sank his fingers into the mayhem and played with the ends. I let him play for a second and then unable to stop myself, touched his stomach above the waistband of his pants. The muscles tightened and I didn't have time to slide my hands around him because he stepped back. I meant to protest but he whipped back the blankets on his side of the bed with a hard flick of his hand and nervous laughter suddenly bubbled inside of me.

"Come to bed with me," his ever powerful liquid voice wrapped itself around my mind and the sudden nerves quelled the laughter. Was it naughty of me to want this? Was it truly a sin? This was to be reserved for married couples and yet here I stood, barely clothed, wanting to crawl into bed with him. I looked down at the black bedding and knew it was a symbol of my sin.

Would he…

Could I…

Questions, questions, questions with never any answers but I could have him in my arms right now if I only had the courage.

"Okay," I responded past the pulsing of my excited heart.

---

Erik

---

"Okay," she spoke quietly, nearly stopping my heart. I wanted to jump around the room, chortling over my victory, celebrating joyously but she climbed up onto the sheets in front of me and my thoughts were replaced by baser ones.

Her silky curling hair, her golden skin, her legs sliding together, her scent, her body…my stomach quivered as she slid to her side, she had a side, and laid down, her hair spreading like a dream cloud on my dark bedding. We stared for a heavy moment and then I let my eyes travel over her shimmering hair and eyes. Sometimes I felt like her beauty was unreal, no mortal woman could be so radiant and so full of light. It was how I knew she was an angel.

I followed her in restraining myself from wrapping my legs and arms around her and instead just took her in my arms. She gazed at me like I was her world and I took her mouth softly and gently wanting to show her I could love her gently too, but unfortunately it was only for short moments. I started to pull back when I felt like doing more to her but she clung to my hair and whimpered at me.

I growled at her, she was always my undoing and covered her mouth none too gently. Time unraveled again as I gorged myself on her sweet succulent mouth. Thoughts were harder to keep in my head. She was a drug and I was intoxicated on her. My hands began to wander and I knew they were no longer gentle. They traversed her body and I rolled onto my back so I could slide my hands all over her as she pressed down on me with her light feminine weight. I let myself feel every curve of her body, her shoulders, her spine, her hips and her ass before I changed our positions wanting to press her into the mattress.

I broke away with my whole body quivering with awareness and let go of my prized catch to roll onto my back and stare at the shadowed ceiling of my bedroom panting.

"God, that feels amazing," she blurted with a definite pant in her voice.

I looked over at her, surprised she took the lord's name in vain and smiled a little. I think I may be corrupting his angel just a tiny bit.

"How do you do that Erik?" she rolled to me to put her hands where ever she could as long as they were on me.

"Do what, mon ange?"

"When you kiss me, it feels like I cease to exist alone and I am swept into you to become a part of you…that's silly to say isn't it?" she was immediately embarrassed by her honest words and I turned to reassure her.

"Not silly at all," I spoke softly, tracing her cheek lightly.

"You make me feel awfully warm," she whispered quietly with a little smile starting to show.

"You make me feel warm as well," warm with her love and her acceptance, warm with her body next to mine, giving freely her touch and kisses. I growled a little as I pulled her closer and the look in her eyes healed a part of me that had been broken for so long.

I kissed the tip of her nose and then tucked her to my chest holding her protectively but gently in my arms.

"Sleep now, ma chardonnerette, the night grows short."

She sighed and I knew I was home.


	22. Healing

---

Erik

---

I was in total darkness.

Bewildered that I couldn't see, I reached out and touched cold metal bars. I recoiled in shock but then reached out again to see if I'd imagined it.

No.

"How come he just sits there?"

"Why does he wear a mask?"

"His own mother sold him…"

"He's a monster…"

Voices whispered in the dark and I curled into a ball on the dirt floor feeling my raggedy clothing.

"His voice is divine…"

"Say we make him sing…"

"A living corpse…"

I was glad to be away from mother, not that she ever acted like the mothers in the books I'd read. I was glad I didn't have to listen to her screaming prayers and cursing me but the conversation outside the cage was not encouraging. They decided I would perform and then reveal my terrible face to the paying crowds. I was in a freak show. A few tears slid down my face and I buried my large cumbersome mask in my knees.

Suddenly I was standing in the middle of the cage in broad daylight. Crowds of leering people pressed on the bars and waited for me to sing. I knew I was supposed to perform but I was scared. I felt so small compared to the crowds of people. They would crush me!

I dizzily sat down and watched them as they began to react.

"Sing corpse!"

"Let's see your face!"

They called at me for a few minutes, flinging obscenities and then a rock hit me.

Cheers went up around the cage and rocks flew through the bars of my cage and pelted my scrawny child's body as I hid my head under my arms. Eventually some gypsies came through into my cage and dragged me off the floor only to send me back down with a hard slap to the face. The mask cut into my skin and I smelled blood.

"Sing corpse! Sing for us!"

"Show us your face!"

"Sing to wake the dead!"

"Show us your face!"

"SING!"

"GO AWAY!" I screamed at them as anger flared through me and immediately I was surrounded in darkness again. I reeled trying to get my bearings but the dark was always a safe place for me.

A solid door clanged open and light flared, blinding me and suddenly four strong hands were pulling me forward.

"I was not pleased with your performance last night," the familiar voice of the Shah spoke from somewhere in front of me as they dragged me down a long corridor.

Somehow I knew I was going to be tortured. Extra treat today. The Shah was talking but I didn't really listen to his annoying voice as I got my feet under me. There had been a time when I hung on his every word but those times had long past. Sometimes they made me answer him but I only spoke when they made me and today they could work for it.

My arms were shackled at the wrist and elbow straight out from my body with my face pressing into the wall. I gritted my teeth and prepared to not scream out.

"I wanted his death to be bloody!" CRACK.

"I wanted him to piss his pants in fear!" CRACK.

"I wanted you to RIP HIS THROAT OUT!"

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

I could hear the Shah panting and thought to myself, oh I really pissed him off, he's actually lifting his finger to do me harm.

I knew why he wanted me to draw out last night's performance. The man had bedded a girl from the Shah's harem. He'd done a few other questionable things but that was the reason The Shadow of God was sweating in his opulent robes. He wanted blood and since I didn't give him any he would take mine.

"Use the metal whips."

Shit.

I braced for them over my back but instead they cracked from both sides over the backs of my calves and thighs. I bit my tongue and tasted blood.

"People do not come from hours away to see you kill your opponent in under a minute and I am not fond of it either. Next time I ask for it to be bloody. MAKE IT BLOODY! Finish with him."

The Shah left me with his brutes and they pleasantly whipped my body bloody and then threw me back in the dark cell with a reminder to make the next one very bloody.

I could be completely crazy but I liked my cell. It was dark and peaceful and no one ever hurt me in here, in the dark. I lay still contemplating what I would do to the next opponent. Maybe I should snap his neck and then carve the dead body bloody. I would find it funny but I doubt the Shah would.

Suddenly I was standing in the pit of death in my modest loincloth, with all my scars visible and my face bare for all to see.

I turned a quick circle as men began pouring out of a door. They screamed as they advanced on me and I realized I had no weapons and they were all armed.

Fuck.

I crouched down and leapt at the closest man, sending a fist into his surprised face. I felt his nose explode and blood hit me in the face. I wrenched the club from his hand and swept his legs as I swung my weapon at the next man's head.

A sickening crack let me know I'd aimed true and I dodged the blow from an axe and swung the club into the man's midsection catching the axe as he dropped it and swinging it quickly in a large arc to fend off any attacks for a second. I quickly turned a tight circle, swinging the axe threateningly as I surveyed the rest of my opponents.

They came at me quickly and I cleaved a few in half, blood spurting warmly across my naked torso as I waded into the throng of men. Blood and darker things covered my body but the men kept coming. I never counted how many I killed during these performances but I must be somewhere around forty by now. Bodies littered the ground and I was killing men on top of men and more men climbed over trying to reach me and end my reign. I jerked a curved knife from a dead body and used it to stab a man in the eye. I buried the axe in one man's head and yanked a sword from another dead body.

The men were never ending and my body was beginning to fatigue. I was covered in blood and gore and just when I thought I might fall over from exhaustion I was lying in the dark on the cold wet stone floor of my cell.

I heard the cell across the hall clang open and shut. I gave the person a few minutes to let their eyes accustom to the dark and then spoke my line.

"Confess to me what you have done to deserve the death I bring."

A soft pleasant voice echoed around me, "Who's there?"

A woman! I sat up and felt the gore that still covered my body with disgust.

The Shah had never sentenced a woman to death before. Could I kill a woman? And still make it pleasantly bloody for him?

"I am called the Deathbringer."

The sweet confused voice came again.

"Erik?" Christine's soft timbre queried from the darkness.

---

Christine

---

He was dreaming and talking in a language I didn't understand. I knelt by him wondering if I should try to wake him when he suddenly sprang up and rolled from the bed in a quicker than I could follow movement.

"Erik!" he looked at me wildly, panting harshly, as he knelt on the floor by the bed. I'm not sure he recognized me right away but he closed his eyes and rested his head against the mattress, his back shuddering.

"You were calling out in your dream," I moved closer, wanting to pet him but not wanting to startle him.

"I am sorry…if I startled you…I will…" he started to try to get to his feet and I saw him stumble slightly, his hands shaking.

I reached out to him, "Lay back down, Erik."

"NO." He turned and made it to his bookcase, still breathing heavy, and braced his hands on a shelf. I knelt in the bed not sure what to do. I wanted to help him so badly. I crawled off the bed and moved towards him. The room was quite dark now because the fire was burning down to nothing but I could still see every line on his back.

"Let me hold you," I whispered as I neared him and when he didn't say no I slipped my arms around him and pressed my cheek to his back. He shuddered and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Christine, I…"

"No apology necessary, my love." I just held him for a minute and then asked, "Did you want to talk about it?" It was the wrong thing to say, I was so good at doing that to him.

He tensed like a block of wood. "No."

"Okay," I tried to keep my voice light, "Let's talk about something else. What's this?" I picked up a black rock from the shelf as I slid around to his front, ducking under his arm and leaning back on his hard stomach.

"What?" he sounded confused so I held up the rock a little higher.

"What is this?" I pronounced each word slowly allowing him time to answer me. He swallowed and took the rock from my hand.

"It's a raw sapphire."

"Raw? What does that mean?" I was glad I needed clarification; it would keep him talking and thinking of something other then his dream.

"It has not been cut and polished, therefore it is in its natural state, its raw state."

"So when it's polished it looks blue?"

"Yes."

"But it looks so black right now."

"If you hold it to a light you will see it is blue."

"Hmmm." I scanned the shelf of books and trinkets and picked up the diamond tie pic he had worn to the opera. "I still can't believe this is real." He said nothing behind me and I tried to find something he would have to talk about. I spied a small velvet pouch by the back of the shelf and picked it up. "What's in here?" I began to open it but Erik quickly took it from my hands.

"You may not like that." I looked at him curiously.

"Is it something…offensive?"

"No," he rubbed the pouch with his thumb looking at it like it was something he cared a great deal for, "Just macabre."

"Let me see," I gently pried the pouch from his hands and removed a palm sized chunk of glass. Embedded in the glass was a butterfly that hadn't made it out of its cocoon. Its wings were twisted oddly and sort of fused to part of the cocoon and my heart squeezed at the sight of the little creature that never got to fly.

I looked up at Erik with tears in my eyes and he took the glass from me with a tsk.

"I told you, you would not enjoy it," he said softly, sliding the glass back into the pouch.

I wanted to ask if he kept it because he felt a kinship with the small creature but I already knew he did. I wiped the solitary tear that had slipped from my eye and looked back at the shelf. I picked up the book he was reading earlier.

"The Iliad…" I spoke it quietly, my voice a little thick, "Did I pronounce it correctly?"

"Yes." Erik seemed to be relaxing.

"What is it about?"

"War, glory, fate, revenge, all the good things," he picked up one of my curls, twirling it absently and I picked up another book.

"Kama Sutra?" I looked back at him, "Did I pronounce it correctly?"

He plucked the book from my hands and returned it as he pulled me back to the bed.

"Yes." He pulled me into his arms and kissed me soundly before shooing me back onto the mattress. I smiled at his sudden willingness to get back into bed and climbed on. He stood looking down at me for a second and I thought he was scared to have another dream but he followed me into the bed and we curled together again.

"So what is Kama Sutra about?" I asked as I nuzzled into his arms again. He didn't answer right away.

"It's an Indian spiritual guide."

I looked up surprised, "You follow an Indian religion?"

He smiled at me slowly, his eyes warming and my breath caught at the devilish look on his face.

"In a manner of speaking…"

---

Erik

---

When Christine fell back asleep I lay in her embrace and stared at the ceiling.

That dream was...awful. But having her here to soothe me had been...marvelous.

I turned my face into her hair and closed my eyes. It was Sunday today, still early but tonight was dinner with Nadir and I knew I would bring Christine with me.

I wondered how he would react to her. I wondered if he would approve.

Not that I would care if he didn't but I didn't want Christine to come between us.

I sighed gently and played with some of her curls. She was so perfect…

---

Christine

---

I felt like I was floating on a cool cloud, blissfully unaware of anything but the arms that held me. They moved away and intolerant of that I moved closer very quickly and smacked my nose on something hard.

I rolled away, fully awake, holding my nose as my eyes watered.

"Christine, are you okay?" Erik's hands were on me, prying my hands from my face to assess the damage. I tried to keep my face hidden and then realized I was being a child.

I nodded at him, aware that I was not supposed to speak and I'd already broken that rule earlier when he had his bad dream. Erik pinched the bridge of my nose, I suppose to see if I broke it and then he appeared to be done, sitting back on his heels with his hands on his thighs. I pinched my nose myself, feeling the dull throb. The initial shock had been the worst part and I wiped the water from my eyes to see Erik looking at me with a little quirk to his mouth, further emphasized by his crooked lip.

Embarrassment flushed hotly into my face and I started to sit up. He put one restraining hand on my shoulder and I couldn't sit. I looked at him indignantly.

"Would it make you feel better if I rammed my face into your chest?" he was grinning.

"I hardly rammed…" I started but then remembered I was not supposed to talk after waking and huffed, crossing my arms and looking away from him. He laughed lightly and that was it for me, never mind his silly rules.

"I highly doubt my chest is anywhere equal to the stone like quality of yours, so go ram your nose into your own chest!" I flicked one petulant hand at him as if dismissing him and he laughed again, the sound rolling through my body, full and joyous, and my anger disappeared in the face of his obvious happiness.

He leaned over me and nuzzled his nose into my neck as he laughed quietly. Then he propped his hands by my head so he was on all fours above me, trapping me and I stared up at him, breathlessly wondering what he would do. His eyes were sparkling.

"I daresay you are correct about my chest and perhaps…" his eyes drifted down to the lace at my chest, "You will allow me to test your theory at another time?" he quirked his eyebrow up at me and I couldn't help the smile from curving my lips. I liked playful Erik. "But I believe you should not be talking this soon," he turned my head with a finger on my chin, "Forgive me for egging you into speech." He was looking at my profile, checking my nose with all the scrutiny of a doctor. "I suppose it is funny," he said absently, "Your instructor causing you to break his own rule…"

He finished his inspection and sat back again helping me up with an offered hand.

"You may have some minor swelling and if a headache develops please let me know," he was extremely concerned, all laughter erased and I nodded solemnly.

"Good." He climbed off the bed and bent to pick up his long discarded robe, twirling it around and onto his arms, so beautiful to watch that it drew a sigh from my lips. I wanted to stay in bed with him all day but I guess it was time to get up. I slid my legs to the side and Erik appeared in front of me with the knit coverlet from my bed.

I wanted to ask the time but bit my lip. I'd never had a problem following this rule before but I'd also never had anyone to talk to first thing in the morning. It was a nice feeling even though I couldn't capitalize on it.

Erik wrapped the coverlet around my shoulders as I stood and I pulled my hair out of it, feeling what a messy snarl it was in. My own fault for not tying it back.

"I'm afraid you do not have much time to get dressed," he sounded apologetic and I looked up to his face. The sunken side was away from the light in the room and I wondered if he purposely placed the candles away from his ruined face. "I have a prior dinner engagement and would like for you to come with me." He tucked some manic hair behind my ear as he continued. "I meet Nadir once a week for dinner in his home and I don't like to cancel on him."

I smiled, excited I would finally meet Nadir. How much time was not much? I tapped him where his time piece usually sat and mimicked opening and closing a pocket watch. Apparently I was a good mime.

"It is half past four in the evening and I'm afraid that does not give you much time. We must leave here in about an hour. I was about to wake you when you cracked your nose on my chest," he smiled a tiny impish smile and I stuck my tongue out at him and turned away with a toss of my hair. I flounced with my head held high, trying not to let my embarrassment show and made it to the door before he said my name.

I swear his voice must be in tune with the inner workings of my body because as my name left his lips my stomach trembled and I stopped dead in my tracks. I took a few quick breaths for fortification and then peeked over my shoulder at him. He stood there for a moment, my fierce guardian with the intense eyes, and then he was walking towards me, his robe open, his hair mussed, his body rolling to that music in his head and it was very hard to breathe.

I couldn't think as he neared my side, I wanted to run but I wasn't sure if it was to get away or to leap into his arms. His hand danced up into my hair and he cupped the back of my head pulling me against him in one swift hard movement. My heart was suddenly pounding and I let go of the coverlet to put my hands on him.

"I could not let you leave without one last kiss," he purred and tickled his fingers up my neck as I stretched to meet his mouth. His lips touched mine gently once, twice and then he started to pull away but I was not satisfied with that kiss. Not after the way he walked toward me and grabbed me.

My hands delved into his hair and yanked him down to my mouth for a thorough exploration. As his hands curved down my body and he kissed me harder I wondered where that fire in me had come from.

The kiss spun out, became something tantalizing and delicious and by the time Erik broke away we were both breathing hard.

"I've never had so appealing a distraction…" his heated eyes on mine as his hands ran down the length of my back one more time before he let go. "I filled your bath for you but I wouldn't recommend fully wetting your hair, time is short."

He was back to business so I knelt and picked up the coverlet and he handed me a candle from somewhere. I walked out into the dark living area and was sad to leave his room; sad for this night, and day, to be over. I glanced back at him to see his dark silhouette in the door way. His bedroom glowed behind him, inviting me in, and I was out in the dark alone…

I turned away knowing I had little time to get ready and I didn't want to keep Erik waiting.

I lit the lamps in my room and laughed when I saw my hair. It was bad. I quickly picked one of the nicer dresses from the closet and then proceeded to the washroom. I wet my hands in the hot water from the tub and combed them through my hair and then followed it with some of the rose scented tonic. I pinned my hair up into a twisted chignon letting some of the curls escape and then sank into the hot water, humming to warm my voice. I felt blissfully good and so relaxed that it reminded me of how I'd felt after Erik made love to me. Heat flushed up my face and I sat up to wash myself.

Just one thought of us together could send my pulse pounding. Maybe I would need a fan to get through this evening at Nadir's. I let myself relax for a few minutes but quickly finished washing and dried myself thoroughly. I donned my undergarments in record time and picked up the pretty pale blue dress. The neckline was modestly scooped with elbow length sleeves trimmed with lace. As I went to pull it on I noticed it had complicated lacing all up the back and sighed. Of course I would pick the most difficult dress. I glanced at the closet door wondering if I should pick out another dress but I'd liked this one because it would match with my new jacket.

I sighed and looked at the lacing. Maybe Erik would do them up for me. I bit my lip as I thought about it. We already shared a bed what would it matter if I asked him for help dressing me?

Decision made, I slipped the dress on and settled in on my frame, tugging and pulling it over the tight corset until it sat perfectly where I wanted it to and then went and opened the door.

He was standing at the door and when I called lightly to him he turned, mask in place. It was a bit of a shock after spending so much time looking at his naked face, I almost forgot this was how I'd first come to know him. I wanted to tell him to take it off but we were going out and I knew it was like a shield for him. My heart ached a little but I would love him any way I could get him.

"You look lovely, my darling," Erik's gloved fingers gestured gracefully towards me and I felt a little rush. Seeing him all dressed up again as The Phantom and my instructor reminded me just how good he looked groomed and dressed and I bit my lip hard and felt myself blush as I recalled just how good he looked while undressed. I needed a fan right now.

Erik noticed I wasn't stepping out and began to come towards me, "Did you need assistance?" He asked it like he wanted to help me, like he'd been looking for something to do. How did he get ready so fast?

"Could you tie up my dress for me?" I turned with my hands on the door jam so he could see the laces.

"My pleasure," he rolled it off his tongue as he came up behind me. His fingers trailed over the exposed skin down the back of my neck and heat rose up my body. His gloved finger traced a curved line down the side of my neck over my visible shoulder blade down to where my dress was open. I flushed even hotter as I began to imagine us going nowhere tonight.

"You have the most beautiful back," he murmured as he placed one hot kiss to the curve of my neck. At the risk of saying one of my incredibly intelligent moaning grunts I bit into my lip and waited for him to tie me up.

He picked up the laces and pulled lightly on my dress.

"Are you wearing a corset?" he sounded troubled by this but I wondered if I really had to answer seeing as he could clearly see the corset. "Why are you wearing one?"

"I have to wear one," did he not know this?

"You've never worn it before," he sounded very strange and I wanted to turn to look at him but I was embarrassed that he'd noticed my lack of propriety around him.

"I wore one to the Opera," I defended myself weakly and then, "A lady is supposed to wear one when she leaves the house. It's the proper thing to do." His hands froze where they were and then he started on the laces.

"Forgive me Christine. Your figure is perfect the way it is and it is a shame society dictates you have to wear that farce of a woman's figure under your clothing."

He was gentle but firm with his lacing and within a few minutes I was tied up and turned to thank him.

"It was my pleasure," this time sounded stiff and my eyes raked over his frame to see that all too familiar stiffness in his posture. I still wasn't ready and didn't want to make us late but something was wrong with him again and I couldn't just turn away.

Why did I have to fall in love with the most complicated man I could find?

"I am almost finished," I smoothed out the dress and Erik nodded politely. Thirty minutes ago he kissed me with wild abandon and now he was nodding crisply like we'd only just met. The only difference was our quantity of clothing and his mask.

Was I supposed to say something about him wearing it?

---

Erik

---

I felt like my ears were ringing. The proper thing to do. The proper thing to do. It took on a tune in my head as her words repeated themselves over and over.

"I am almost finished," she spoke quietly sweeping her hands over the front on her blue dress. It only reminded me of the horrible thought I'd just had seeing her in that corset. She never wore one around me and the fact that she'd put one on to meet Nadir made jealousy tear through me. She was trying to impress him with her tiny waist but then the real reason for it had filled me with shame. How could I ever think that of her?

'It's the proper thing to do' she said. The proper thing to do.

The proper thing to do would be to get down on my knees right here and ask her to marry me. I would never be able to give her up now or even live without her. Once you've felt the heat of the sun you want to bask in it forever. But how could I find the words to tell her she would have no family name from me. It galled me to try to find those words and to tell her I was no better than a street urchin, sold like garbage to a passing gypsy camp and then nothing more then a servant for a nice man and then a slave for a not so nice one. I couldn't even think of the words required when she looked at me like I was so wonderful. I didn't want to have that gaze end.

All this was swirling in my stupid over thinking brain and she just stood there with an open expression on her face, wanting to ask me something.

"Is there something amiss?" I asked cocking my head to one side nervously.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she said with an easy smile. My brow furrowed and the mask rubbed my skin.

Damn thing! Take it off for one day and all of a sudden it feels strange on my face.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, my dear, now hurry and finish up. We must be going." I dismissed her with a wave of my hand ready to turn away but she stepped forward and touched my bare cheek lightly. She only looked at me as if searching my face for something and then she turned back into her bedroom. I stood at her door like an idiot, enjoying that simple touch on my cheek.

The proper thing to do.

I turned away to put on my cloak and fetch her jacket. It smelled like her and I had the mad urge to press my face into her outerwear.

But why settle for that when you could have the real thing in just a moment?

The proper thing to do. The proper thing to do.

Christine emerged, a vision of propriety and beauty, her hat tilted just so, her white clad hands clasped in front of her.

"I believe that is the fastest I have ever prepared myself for a departure." She smiled at me and stole my breath. Those smiles of hers that slid over her face were only for me. Her perfect lips spread to reveal her perfect teeth and her perfect eyes glittered with joy.

Did I make her so happy? If so, maybe she wouldn't mind not having a new surname. I held out her jacket for her and she slipped it on, turning as her fingers began to work the buttons. From her slender throat, over her soft chest to her flat stomach, my eyes followed her hands in silence and all I could think of was undoing every last button down the front of her.

I swallowed and began opening the door. She would let me undo them. She would stand there demure and silent or maybe telling me not to stop if I paused too long at one button while I took off her clothing. At least, I was pretty sure she would. After last night and this morning I think she would let me do anything to her. And she could do anything to me.

That was the trade after all. I may have won her heart but she won my heart, mind, body and soul. I was hers and hers alone. I only existed when her eyes were on me. I only really lived when she was with me.

I reached back and plucked my hat off the hook, placing it upon my head with a small flourish.

"Shall we?" I offered her a hand and we made our way across the lake.

There was something in the way she kept looking at me. Full, expectant looks and then letting her eyes drop demurely. Nadir would certainly notice it and I knew I would have to explain carefully how she came to be with me.

His carriage was waiting at the end of the alley just like every Sunday night. I saw the surprise on the driver's face as we got in and couldn't help a small smile of satisfaction.

That's right! I have a woman with me!

I took off my hat and rested it on the bench. Christine looked out the window as we got under way and then turned to me, closing the curtain.

"I'm so nervous, Erik," she pressed a hand to her stomach and bit her lip adorably.

"You are probably just hungry seeing as I forgot to feed you again," I smiled a little at her and she actually rolled her eyes at me.

"I think I can tell the difference between hunger pains and nervous jitters."

"You have nothing to be nervous about," it was just dinner with Nadir. She touched me on the arm and like magic our hands found each other and entwined. It felt so good to touch her and have her touch me that I took a deep breath while marveling at it.

"Nadir is important to you. What if he doesn't like me?" my mouth dropped open slightly. She looked genuinely worried and I almost laughed.

"That, ma chardonnerette, c'est impossible." I rubbed her hands between mine for encouragement. She slid closer her lashes fluttered up and down slowly like she wasn't sure where to look before her quiet query came.

"If he doesn't like me, will you still like me?" my mouth dropped again. She was worried to lose my favor?

"Always," I breathed out wanting her to look up and see the answer in my eyes. She did and our noses were only an inch apart. I had visions of putting my hands into her coiffed hair and pulling it down around our faces as I pressed my mouth to her perfectly moistened pouting lips.

I swallowed, "I don't want to muse your hair," I was feeling slightly strained so close to her but unable to act on it. Christine giggled breathily, her lashes dancing.

"I was thinking the same about yours, it's so perfectly combed and I do have the bad habit of running my hands through it."

It took me a few seconds to figure out what she'd just said because it meant she wanted to kiss me just as badly as I wanted her right now. I touched her cheek, my gloved fingers white against her rosy cheek.

"We will put it on account then," I purred close to her mouth.

"Like…like a bank account?" she asked breathless.

"Mmm Hmmm," I answered as my eyes wandered over her face becoming quite aroused at the thought of just giving in and kissing her here in Nadir's carriage.

"So are there unlimited kisses in my account," I laughed a little as she continued talking.

"Unlimited," I felt the carriage sway to the right and knew we were half way there.

Christine rested her head lightly on my shoulder, careful to not dislodge her hat, "Do I need to deposit into the account or can I withdraw when ever I want?" She was taking this way too literally but she was enchanting me all the same.

"Well, the only time you really need to worry about the account is when it is neither appropriate nor convenient to make a deposit or withdrawal. Then you put it on your account until later."

Christine giggled and her hands threaded through mine pulling my arm into her lap as the carriage jolted us along. My hand was nestled between hers in the soft bed of her thighs and I tried to think of something else to talk about.

"Nadir has a grand conservatory that leads out into a beautiful spacious back garden."

"Really? Is he rich as well?"

"He'd say well enough."

"Did he teach you to play the piano?"

"Ah no, but he made sure I had the best musical instructors when I showed an interest in learning."

"Does he play?"

"No, I suppose he has the piano only for me to play," and I tried to always play for him. He was the only person who ever showed me a moment's kindness, always interested in what I was learning and doing. Even when I was his servant and fetched everything he needed while he was in the house he still was enormously kind. I didn't mind being his servant, I did it to show my gratitude, not because he threatened to beat me. He was a good man and had taken me in and treated me fairly and kindly. He was even overly generous with all the education I received.

A warmth settled in my chest as Christine's hands played with mine. It felt good to be taking her to meet Nadir. It meant she was really a part of my life and not just a hallucination I'd indulged myself in.

"You could sing for him after dinner if you like?" I suggested. He and I shared the same distaste for La Carlotta's voice and I knew he would understand my instant attraction to Christine if he heard her sing.

"Will you accompany me?"

"Of course dear," we lapsed into silence as our hands circled. Each touch or stroke was answered by a movement or touch and our hands slowly moved their positions, never lying still, never finishing the dance. As the carriage swung around and slowed I pulled away to flick open the curtain. How was I going to restrain myself from her in front of Nadir? It was not going to be easy.

I hoped out of the carriage and positioned my hat on my head in one smooth move and turned to offer my lady a hand. The brim of her hat hid her eyes as she stepped down but I knew the golden depths that swam with life and light, I knew the warmth of her body and the kindness in her touch. I thought of having her next to me in my bed again tonight, day dreaming of how I would ask her into it again as she descended from the carriage.

I was not paying attention and felt her lurch unexpectedly. I had no time to catch her properly and our bodies smacked together as I caught her. A shock-wave of desire ran through me at the sudden warm lithe figure pressed against me and my grip on her tightened. She laughed and it was like music in my ears.

---

Christine

---

I burst into giggles. I was so nervous and my senses always seemed on alert around Erik, especially when he touched me. Having his muscular body firmly against me only served to heighten my nervousness and I looked up into his face and love swelled for him.

In his arms I was beautiful and radiant and safe. I liked the way he made me feel inside and I liked the way our bodies felt pressed together. In his arms I could fly...

I slid my hand from his chest up to his face and cupped his jaw. His eyes glittered down at me and he reached up and took my wrist to stop me from touching him.

"If you are not careful I will make my withdrawal now," his golden voice whispered through me invading my senses and I tilted my face up expectantly as my other hand snaked up to his face.

I loved to kiss him, couldn't seem to get enough of it. I loved the way he smelled, sang, cooked, sat, walked, talked, tasted. He was perfect, but for his face which I oddly found to be perfect for him anyway.

He grabbed my other hand too and I rose on my toes to meet his mouth and kissed him with how I felt. He was startled I think at my eagerness maybe, but his lips responded to mine and he pressed a hard lingering kiss to my mouth. I struggled to put my arms around him but his hands held mine down at our sides as he stamped me with his lips. He broke away with a hard breath and my heart fluttered in my chest. He was so strong, holding me down, to keep my hands from pushing his hat off his head and ruining his hair.

Erik closed the carriage door and as it began to pull away I realized I'd just kissed him in full view of the house and Nadir's driver. I blushed hotly and my fingers reached for hair that was tucked away. I dropped my hands and lifted my chin. I was not ashamed of loving Erik.

No, feelings are fine to have, but your actions need atonement.

My eyes dropped a little and Erik stopped two steps ahead when he saw I wasn't following.

"Come Christine," his hand uncurled for me and I took it just as the door opened. "Apparently, I've kept the Daroga waiting."

A strange looking dark man stood in the doorway but Erik didn't greet him at all so I decided it must be the butler. Erik barely acknowledged the man and the man ignored him and asked only me for my jacket.

I started on my buttons and glanced at Erik who was twirling the cloak off his frame and hanging it himself. I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders and into the butler's waiting arms in the odd silence. Erik turned back to me and he finally noticed I was wearing the necklace he gave me.

His face went soft and he smiled, "You are wearing it?" his musical voice soothed me and I started to smile but the butler spoke loudly.

"Does the lady require a powder room to remove her hat?" Erik's eyes flicked to the man narrowly and I looked between them curiously.

"I suppose so…" I trailed off looking to Erik for direction but the butler loudly interrupted again.

"I will show you the way, Nadir is in the front room," and he walked away toward a narrow hall. I looked at Erik and he seemed amused.

"Don't forget to choose a song you would like to sing," he touched my cheek briefly and then we parted ways as I hurried to catch the very unorthodox butler.

---

Erik

---

I stepped into the front room and knew that Nadir had seen everything.

"I suppose Christine has been with you since she disappeared on Thursday," he tried to not sound angry with me but I had never heard his voice burn with such anger and I didn't know what to say.

I'd wanted to break things to him slowly, let him see how she talks to me and enjoys my company and then tell him my confused thoughts and feelings towards her. I wanted to ask him his thoughts on lust versus love, could the two co-exist peacefully, but now he knew I wanted more then just her love.

"What have you done?" he asked softly like he was ashamed of me and my face burned as my humiliation ran hot over my face.

"I have done nothing but what she asks of me."

He limped towards me and I was glad he never used his cane because I wasn't sure if he wouldn't have hit me with it.

"You were holding her immobile just now," his voice extra quiet. "Did she ask for that?" I wanted to crawl away and hide but I stood my ground.

"Maybe not in so many words but she certainly wanted my lips on hers. Surely you know I would not force an unwilling woman?" I looked in his face, so familiar and aged that the silence before his answer seemed an eternity.

"She was attacked on Thursday and…"

"It was not me!" I jumped to my own defense and Nadir gave me a look.

"I am aware of that but she vanished afterwards. Not one word said to anyone…" he was asking me to fill in the blanks. I couldn't look at him while reliving such pain.

"I found her," the cold seething rage at finding her in that state filled me again and I lashed out with my words. "She was barely dressed and bloodied and promptly fainted when she laid eyes on me. Should I have left her in a crumpled heap in the cold or maybe brought her back to the man that attacked her…"

"Erik!" Nadir tried to keep me from getting too wound up, "I apologize if I make you feel you must defend your actions but I don't know what to think!" He collapsed tiredly into one of the chairs and sighed. "I know you would never force a lady but then I see…" he waved feebly towards the window and I glanced out to see that he would have had a very good view of Christine struggling to put her hands on me as we kissed. I suppose it would not look very innocent from his point of view. "I thought that you may have her with you, since I knew of your acquaintance with her but I would never give your location or name to the police…"

"The police!" I interrupted. Was Raoul pressing charges?

"The DeChangy's have been thoroughly searching for her. It's caused quite a stir," his lips twitched and he suddenly looked very amused. "The Young Vicomte told his father he witnessed her attack…"

"Witnessed!" I scoffed and Nadir raised an eyebrow.

"Do you wish to hear what I have to say before Christine joins us?"

"Do pardon the interruption?" I gave him a mocking bow and he started to smile. I didn't realize until that moment how important his happiness was to me and I relaxed, knowing he was no longer angry with me. Nadir's eyes twinkled merrily.

"He had to confess that he was in the dancer's washroom with another girl when she was set upon…"

I listened carefully to what Nadir knew and wondered if Christine would mind if I revealed who her attacker had been. Perhaps it would be best to leave that between her and I for now.


	23. Trouble

---

Christine

---

My stomach was flipping and empty and the combination was doing nothing to steady my nerves.

Having once trusted everything and everyone around me, my short time at the opera had taught me to be more wary of my surroundings. I paid attention to the direction the dark skinned man led me so I could easily find my way back to Erik. Immediately I chided myself, Erik would not leave you unattended if he feared for your safety. You can trust this butler though he seemed very stiff and strange and his behavior was odd at our arrival and he was wearing a comical looking outfit of bright colored baggy shirt and pants.

"My name is Christine," I said politely, knowing some people don't bother to talk to servants but Papa taught me to be polite to everyone no matter their station in life.

"You may call me Berou. The powder room is just to the left," I looked where he pointed and stepped into the lighted room. It was small but well lit with a large mirror for me to remove the pins that held my hat in place. Not for the first time I wondered at all the formalities Papa had drilled into me before we came to Paris. All the proper ways I needed to dress and all the proper ways to address people. They were things I never had to worry about living alone with Papa on the outskirts of our small town.

I carefully replaced the pins in the hat Papa had bought for me. Why I needed to wear a hat when I travelled to someone's home was beyond me but I did it anyway. I began to fuss with my hair, trying to replace a falling curl but it slid back down the side of my neck. I noticed Berou was standing there and staring at me waiting for me to finish.

"I can find my way back," I assured him.

"I will escort you," he dropped his black eyes and I wondered out loud.

"Where are you from? I've never seen clothing such as that or heard an accent like yours." He looked up, taken aback for a moment and then he hid his eyes with a bowed head.

"From India, Mademoiselle."

"India…" I imagined glorious peacocks with those marvelous feathers and a book called Kama Sutra as I tried to tuck another stray curl back in place. "How long have you been in Paris?"

"I came with Nadir around three years ago."

I wondered if he was supposed to call him by his first name as he did but then what did I know of being a servant? I turned my head and looked at my reflection from all sides.

"I suppose I should go meet them," I was almost stalling because I was so nervous to make a good impression on Nadir.

Berou nodded and began walking so I hurried to follow. I took off my gloves as he led me back to where we came from.

"I will take those," he plucked my gloves from my hand and knocked loudly on a door before opening it for me.

"Thank you," I said softly and stepped into the front sitting room. It was set up like a library and had books in dozens of shelves all over the room. Erik was standing by the fire looking tall and fine and an older oriental looking man stood slowly as I entered. He rose from one of two plush chairs by a large fireplace.

"Welcome to my home, Mademoiselle Daae," his voice was pleasant but scratchy like he had a cold. I dropped into a curtsy and as I stood Erik spoke.

"Christine, I'd like you to met Daroga Nadir Karan," the title rolled off his tongue beautifully and Nadir waved his hand at Erik with a small smile.

"I haven't been a policeman in many years, Erik," but I could tell he liked the sound of it still.

"Christine Daae," Nadir bowed over my hand very properly and then clasped my hand in both of his, "May Allah always smile upon you."

My nerves eased and I smiled up at him sincerely, "I'm so glad to meet you." He had kind green eyes set in his dark weathered skin, his once dark hair greying with age. He turned me onto his arm leading me from the room.

"And I you. Do forgive me for not greeting you at the door, I was unaware that Erik was bringing a guest this evening."

Erik fell in behind us as we walked further into the house. "My apologies, Daroga. Next time I'll send a telegram." I looked back at Erik his sarcasm easy to hear, he was very relaxed and smiled at me. Nadir patted my hand where it lay on his arm.

"Never mind him, dear. He has made it his life's mission to taunt me and he is relentless in his task. If it suits you I thought we could sit for awhile in the conservatory, maybe Erik will honor us with a song or two. Then we can get better acquainted."

I agreed with him because I didn't know what else to say and Erik's voice came softly again. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Nadir?" he sounded like he was about to laugh and I wanted to see that carefree look on his face but didn't want to turn from Nadir's arm so rudely. I bit my lip and kept looking straight ahead wondering how difficult tonight was going to be.

Nadir led me to a large vaulted room with huge windows looking out into the darkening garden. Erik had been correct, it was the most beautiful room I had ever seen. I was led to a chair where I sat primly on the edge, the corset keeping me from relaxing almost as much as my nerves.

"So tell me, Mlle," Nadir eased himself into a chair across from me and smiled politely. "What brings you to be acquainted with my young friend?"

I looked down at my hands thinking just how well acquainted I was with his friend and suddenly wished I'd remembered to bring a fan so I could cool my heated ears.

"I've known Erik for a few months now." I could hear him readying the piano behind me, putting away sheets of music and wondered if he hadn't mentioned me to Nadir.

"Really? A few months?" If I was important to Erik then he would have told Nadir and it sounded like he had not mentioned me at all. I sat up even straighter.

"Has he not mentioned me?" my voice sounded so sad at that thought and Nadir's expression changed.

"He has, Mlle, I heard of your loss and am very sorry for you." The reminder of my father's death was a sharp pain in my chest. "If I can be of assistance to you in any way please don't hesitate to ask."

I bowed my head demurely and said thank you quietly as I warred inside with my recent happiness and resurrected thoughts of Papa. It was horrible that I could forget him so easily.

A few soft arpeggios scaled up the piano and my ears drank down the sudden melody that sprang from Erik's hands. I was eager to turn towards his music and watch him as he played but Nadir was watching me and I was forgetting Papa again and I was the most terrible daughter that ever walked the earth.

---

Erik

---

Relegated to the piano. Probably for the best anyhow. Then Nadir could form his own opinion of Christine's feeling for me. I only hoped she didn't get too shy around him, she was soft spoken by nature and I hoped she didn't give him the wrong impression.

I glanced quickly at them. They both looked uncomfortable, Nadir studying Christine apologetically, while she sat ramrod straight in the chair, her head bowed forward demurely. She looked beautiful tonight in the blue dress, her hair all done up, my necklace adorning her throat. I smiled as I altered the song thinking of the way she smelled, soft and feminine.

"Erik tells me you are a singer as well as a dancer?" I chuckled softly at Nadir's direct question. Let the interrogation begin.

"I aspire to be a singer," her answer was hesitant and I could hear how nervous she was.

"I should like to hear you sing tonight if you will indulge me?"

"Of course." They went silent for a moment so I brightened the music to fill the silence, weaving the notes intricately, dancing the tune off the walls and curtained windows.

"Do you have any family here in Paris?"

"No."

"In Sweden?"

"No."

"Your father was your only family?"

"Yes."

"Why did you come to Paris?"

Christine paused, "Papa said he wanted me to meet a man." Her voice halted, "I just came…he died before telling me anything else." I glanced over at her to make sure she was okay, thoughts of her father pained her deeply and I narrowed my eyes at Nadir.

What are you searching for, Daroga?

"So, he didn't tell you why you were to meet this man?"

He knew something and Christine sounded bewildered.

"No, I thought it was a friend of his…"

"Did you meet this man?"

"I don't know…we visited the DeChangy's and then Papa died…"

"Did he ask you anything after meeting the DeChangy's?"

"No…I…he…" her skirts rustled and I turned to find her large golden eyes fixed on me filled with confusion, sorrow, pain, hurt, need…

I stood abruptly, jarring the music into silence and answered Christine's call.

"Nadir, what is the purpose of all these questions?" I was very annoyed that he'd made Christine upset.

Nadir looked very deliberately between Christine and I but she looked only at me, sort of begging me to fix this, get her out of this. Nadir raised one eyebrow and looked highly entertained.

"Merely trying to decipher fact from fiction."

"And the fiction is?" he'd obviously heard something but instead of answering he stood to fetch something. I knelt in front of Christine, looking up into her face. "I'm sorry for all his questions," I apologized quietly and she bit her lip, flicking her eyes to Nadir across the room.

"I thought Monsieur DeChangy was the man I had to meet. Papa said he was a friend and I didn't meet any other men." The fact that she had also met Raoul at that time made me want to laugh but Christine continued. "He paid for the funeral and tried to send me back to Sweden." All the sadness that I'd first witnessed in her eyes was pouring back in and I squeezed her hand wanting to hold her close and kiss her tears away.

"Why did you stay in Paris then?" Nadir was back with a newspaper page in hand and I stood back up.

"I didn't want to go back home without him," her voice soft and vulnerable as Nadir handed me the paper. It was a one page newsprint with a large crude hand drawing of Christine.

"That's me!" I heard her say with a gasp as I scanned the printed words. Attacked, missing, Thursday, dancer, Swedish, engaged…

My heart stopped beating. Engaged to be married to the Vicomte De Changy. Any help as to her whereabouts contact the DeChangy home.

I let Christine take the paper from me as I started to tremble. She was engaged, running from her fiancée but taken all the same. I suddenly knew I would have to kill that scum if I wanted to keep her. I was at the liquor cabinet pouring myself a drink when Christine gasped again.

"That's a lie!" I threw back a few fingers of premium scotch whisky and felt it burn down my throat to my heart.

"Erik?" Nadir's voice was little more than a scratch, the subtleties within questioning the judgment of drinking at this moment and questioning if I was okay.

"Where did you get this?" her perfect voice was heightened with tension.

"They are all over Paris, Mlle."

"But…" she looked back at the paper, "I'm not missing."

Nadir was quick to point out, "To everyone in the opera you are. Meg Giry said you fled after the attack and she did not see you again."

Christine blinked several times at Nadir, "How do you know that?"

"She was interviewed for a newspaper." He waved his hand, "It was just a small story."

"Another one!" that brought her attention back to the print up. "I didn't think anyone would care…"

"Well your fiancée should care," Nadir piped up and Christine's face went through the most elaborate confused and bewildered expression to a look of horror.

"I'm not engaged!" my tension eased as her tension escalated. "I think I would recall being proposed to!"

"I think you would," I finally broke my silence and they both looked to me as if they'd forgotten I was there.

I only had eyes for Christine as I walked to her and knelt in front of her again. "Do you think your father planned a betrothal for you? The man you were to meet you future husband?"

She looked so confused and hurt and angry underneath it. It shocked me to see such anger in her but she was half engaged to the man who attacked her.

"He could, I don't know Erik," her voice was pleading with me to take her in my arms. I wanted to take her away from everyone, hide her away with me forever.

"Do you trust me?" I looked into her pretty face and watched as it softened .

"Of course I do," she said it quietly and I could almost forget Nadir was sitting right here.

I put my hand over hers and promised, "I will take care of this."

She glanced at Nadir and then lowered her eyes as she shifted closer to me. "I can't see him again, Erik," she whispered very quietly. "I'm frightened of him… Do you…Do you think he wants to marry me to make up for…it?"

I hadn't thought of that. "Do not dwell on it, my darling." I held up her hand to help her from her seat and then gently cupped her face with one gloved hand. "Why don't you splash some water on your face, it will make you feel better. Can you find the powder room?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly and I watched her walk in a mild daze from the conservatory.

She was mine and I would have to take care of this and do everything in my power to keep her.

"Just how do you plan to take care of this?" Nadir was still sitting and I lowered myself into Christine's vacant chair.

"Why did you not disclose this when I arrived?"

"It does not really concern you."

"Anything that concerns Christine, concerns me."

His eyebrows walked up his brow, "Really?"

I met his gaze with confidence and conviction, "Yes."

---

Christine

---

I left the conservatory sort of dazed. The sketch of my likeness was burned into my mind's eye. Missing dance, young Swedish woman. Engaged.

Now everyone in Paris would think I was engaged to Raoul! I put my hand on the wall to steady myself and took a deep breath.

So much seemed to be happening so fast. My feelings for Erik were so large in my head that I hadn't even thought what Meg and the other girls in the washroom that day would think. Why would anyone print that I was engaged?

Erik said he would take care of it and I knew he would try but what if Raoul had been telling the truth and Papa meant to give me to him?

No, I shook my head to dispel that thought. Papa would never...

But then it would explain why all of a sudden he had packed us up and travelled out to Paris when his health was so poor. He knew he was dying and he didn't tell me.

My head was spinning and tears filled my eyes. I felt so confused. I stumbled down the hall to where I thought the powder room was and walked right past it until I was at the kitchens and Berou and a small dark woman chatted aimiably in a foreign tongue. They noticed me and Berou stopped.

"Mlle, did you require something?"

My mouth opened and my lips trembled, "Water..." my voice was weak. "Please," I added as he turned to comply.

What if Papa planned this? What if Raoul was to be my husband? What if I couldn't do anything and Erik couldn't do anything and I had to leave him? Would I never see Erik again? My stomach lurched sickeningly, my vision blurred and I reached out for the wall but couldn't feel it. I faintly heard someone shout over the roar of blood in my eyes as darkness overwhelmed me.

---

Erik

---

"She is amazing, Nadir," I gazed out the window which was darkening considerably. "She looks at me like I'm normal, laughs and touches me as if..."

"She is quite innocent and only lost her father weeks ago."

"Almost four months to be precise," I bristled with anger. He would dismiss her very real feelings for me because of her grief and loneliness.

"She seems very impressionable and could easily become quite infatuated with you."

"Surely because of my stunning looks," I mocked and Nadir's brow furrowed.

"I can see that you desire her but do you love her, Erik?" the question stunned me and I had no flip comeback. "Don't look at me like that. It is a simple question. Do you love her?"

How was I to know what love felt like? No one had ever loved me before. I lusted after her but that was easy to do. There were moments when I felt like I was full of emotion for her, full to bursting but was that love? I began to pace.

"I don't know," I reasoned, "I care about her and want to see her safe and cared for and I feel that I am the only one who could possibly do it correctly. Is that love? It feels so vastly different from anything I've ever felt before that I don't even know how to begin categorizing it. What am I supposed to feel? Can you tell me? Can any man explain it? Does every person love the same to make it easily explainable? All I can say for certain is I never want to be without her now." I ran my hand absently over my hair knowing that had been a rambling honest desperate plea for help.

Nadir nodded as if he liked my explanation and then asked, "What do you propose to do?"

"The DeChangys must be notified of her safety but I don't plan to bring her there. I will not hand her over to that pig headed boy or be shipped off to Sweden with no choice in the matter."

"I highly doubt Mr Dechangy will allow her to stay with you on merely your word of her safety and how do you know Raoul DeChangy?" Nadir was trying to find all the answers to this new mystery at his feet but I was thinking of Christine and her sad pleading eyes, 'I'm frightened of him'.

I could easily get rid of him...

"Besides," Nadir continued, "How can you be sure she doesn't want to go home?"

"You heard her yourself, she does not wish to return without her father and he is not going anywhere," I was tired of his questions already, I had more pressing matters to attend, like what do to about The DeChangys.

"I will call on them to give notice of her safety," I said almost to myself.

"No, Erik." Nadir's firm command made me turn with all my new emotions roiling.

"What else can I do?" I raged. "I can not risk losing her! Especially to the man that attacked her!" Nadir reacted to that bit of news and I cursed my wicked anger. Now I would have to explain that to him but I never had to because Berou bustled in and quickly spoke.

"Mlle is asking for you. She has had an episode."

"What?" Nadir began to struggle up but I was already past Berou.

"Where is she?" I asked curtly.

"The kitchen." I was half way down the hall with my heart in my throat. What did episode mean? Fainting? Did she hit her head?

I hit the kitchen door and Molly, the cook, was helping her with some water. Christine's tear filled eyes met mine and she reached out, calling me towards her. Molly scrambled away, she had always been very scared of me.

"Erik," Christine sobbed and I was kneeling in front of her holding her in my arms before I could think. She clutched me to her, pressing her face into my neck and I could feel the fine tremble of her body.

"I'm sorry...I just...everything's so out of my control...you...you..."

"Hush dear, it's okay, I have you." I felt weightless holding her, like everything else in life was inconsequential and now that I had her with me, safe and secure, life's hardships melted away. Nothing mattered when we were together but each other, not my body count, not her dead father, not my face or her current odd situation. Her arms tightened around me.

"I won't marry him, even if Papa did plan it," she pulled back to look at me, tears glistening on her cheeks and lashes and I felt the love in her eyes reach out to me to touch me and embrace me. The truth of what she did want was there in her eyes. She wanted me and she wasn't afraid to tell the world.

"Christine?" the weightless feeling was almost too much, like I would float upward, and her name was the last of my weight, full of questions.

Christine's hands tightened on my clothing and her body shuddered against mine. I felt the long sensuous tremor wrack down her spine and wondered if just my voice was so powerful on her delicate ears. I remembered the way she said 'Stop talking' like I made it hard for her to think. I debated if I should say something but Christine slid off the chair to kneel with me on the floor. She melted against me burrying her face into my chest.

"I love you, Erik," my arms tightened around her and heat flushed up my neck. Nadir and Berou had I wonderful view of the red on the bare side of my face and I turned my lips to her ear and neck.

"I will never allow anyone to take you from me," I pledged only for her ears.

Swiftly after that I ordered that dinner be served. She had not eaten since yesterday's simple dinner and that was over twenty four hours ago.

Nadir was very quiet during dinner. I really had no appetite and neither did Christine. She kept putting her hand to her stomach as if to ease her worry. I knew she was worried of the engagement announcement. She was unaware of any plans her father might have made but I thought it may be a ploy to garner faster results in the search for her. I twirled my wineglass between my fingers.

I still had the knife I'd found with Christine, so if it came to it I could use it as a bargaining chip, I just had to find out how she'd come to have it in her possession. I needed to ask her about that night...

How would I be able to explain to Mr DeChangy how I came to have HER in my possession? Maybe Christine could write him a letter that I could bring with me...

"How do you feel Christine? You look pale." Nadir's voice broke through my thoughts. Did she look pale? I tried to see it but her lips seemed rosy with color and her eyes glowed softly as she glanced up at him. My radiant angelic beauty.

"Vous êtes éclatant comme une étoile," her eyes turned to capture mine and a smile played on her lips,slow and sweet, even though she probably didn't know I just said she was bright and glowing as a star.

"You are distracting her from her problems, Erik," Nadir sounded stern and I peeled my eyes from Christine to look at him. His brow was furrowed disapprovingly and I wondered how many times I'd seen that look on his face.

"And what, pray tell, is wrong with that? If she indeed is pale, then perhaps she requires a distraction," I could see Christine glance between Nadir and I.

"So you have some grand plan?" he asked curtly.

"Quit pestering her," I ordered quietly. Nadir flushed and his mouth opened comically.

"I am..." he began quickly but then stopped himself, "Not pestering her. I merely wish to see her cared for. Does that not put us on the same team, Erik?"

I frowned at him as he turned back to my goddess.

"You need to think about what you wish to do..." my anger rose to life. I didn't want him to cause Christine pain but then did I not have to do the same thing later? We were on the same team but she was mine.

"Enough!" I put down my wineglass and Nadir and Christine both looked at me startled.

"There is no need to shout," Nadir lifted his brow at me like I was a child and I felt like one right now. I wanted to grab Christine away from him and yell Mine in his face like she was no more than a possession, my newest obsession.

I ground my teeth and couldn't help the little snarl that flickered over my face.

He would try to take her from me.

---

Christine

---

Erik was frowning at Nadir, Nadir was frowning at Erik and I just wanted to disappear. So much had happened while time had stood still for me in Erik's home. I'd fallen in love and the rest of my world had fallen apart. I was very insignificant to the conversation between them and didn't mind in the slightest. I wanted to be taken care of. I didn't want to think about any of the important things I knew I should be thikning about.

I looked at Erik so I could think of nothing. He had some power that called to me and suddenly I was thinking of how his lips tasted. I knew I should be scared by the fearsome look on Erik's face, but it wasn't directed at me and it was because he wanted to keep me safe and secure and happy and I could have kissed him right now, right here in front of Nadir. It probably would wipe the scowl off his face...

Nadir tossed his linen on the table and pushed his chair back, "Are you not hungry, Christine? You've barely eaten." He sounded concerned for me so I tried to be more open with him and not so wrapped up in Erik. He was Erik's mentor after all.

"I don't feel hungry, I feel worried." I felt bad saying it out loud because I knew Erik would try to keep us together but I couldn't help worrying my fairytale was over.

"Erik and I will think of something, there is no need for you to worry. If you do not wish to marry the Vicomte I will do what I can to..." Erik interrupted with emphasis.

"I will do what I can."

"No Erik..."

"I will call on them tomorrow," Erik was firm and Nadir began to stand.

"I will go alone..." Erik stood much more smoothly.

"I will not allow it!" he sounded surprised and angry. "It is my duty to go."

Nadir sighed, "You cannot seriously think..." Erik's fist hit the table with a jar of glassware and I jumped in my seat.

"It is my choice!" Erik's voice rang off the walls and the silence that followed was deafening compared to the whir of his voice in my ears, like that tuning fork suddenly humming in my head. He walked swiftly behind my chair to tower menacingly over Nadir and I looked up at him a little breathless.

His voice whispered like a warning breeze, "Christine is mine to care for. I will not allow you to take her from me just as much as I would not allow another man." Warmth buzzed from my ears down my neck to my stomach and a tremble followed in its wake. Such possession in his voice. He surely loved me though he never said the words. 'Christine is mine', he said it so forcefully. "I will go to the DeChangys and tell them she is safe and that I will see to her safety in the furture. Why would they disagree with me if they were made aware of Christine's desire?"

I flushed at the last word, the way it rolled off his golden tongue in connection with my name.

"But I could go and save you the trouble. You know the mask puts people off. Be sensible," Nadir glanced at me quickly and I wondered how pink my face was. I looked down bashfully.

"Perhaps I won't wear it," Erik threw back.

"You can't be serious..."

"I am nothing if not serious and besides," something was dropped on the table, "It annoys me. Christine?"

I looked up at my name spoken the way I wanted to hear it for the rest of my life. He'd taken off the mask and I could've found it with my eyes but they could not be torn from his. Our eyes spoke volumes to one another and I smiled at him lovingly. His lashes dropped and he held out his gloved hand to me bowing slightly.

"Would you care to walk through the garden with me?"

---

Erik

---

She was warmly tucked into her jacket and gloves with a thick scarf around her neck. The air was not too cold for the end of November but it felt icy to my naked face. The skin was too used to being protected, being shielded. I can't believe I took it off so easily in front of Nadir. His face had been quite shocked but not horrified or disgusted. I reached up and ran my gloved hand over the skin a few times to shake off the chill. I was tentative to start conversation, wondering what she thought of my childish declaration that she was mine.

"Do you think Nadir likes me?" she sounded hopeful and I looked at her slowly. She was the one who made me strong enough to take off the mask.

"Of course he does," not that it mattered one way or another but who wouldn't like her?

"Does he always ask so many questions?"

I laughed softly, "Yes, I should have warned you that, though he may be a retired policeman, it very much still lives in him." We walked in silence for a minute before she spoke again.

"Are the police really looking for me?"

"Yes dear." Our foot falls echoed in the silent evening.

"I didn't think anyone would be looking for me, I didn't think Raoul," I hate that name on her lips, "Would tell his father about me being here in Paris because now I'm just going to tell him what he did to me and how nervous he always...OH!" she gasped and I immediately was reaching for her.

"What?" I barked. She clutched me and trembled.

"He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, oh Papa...Papa..." she sobbed into my chest as her knees buckled and I bent to lift her limp body into my arms. I stalked down the path to the shrouded bench and carefully sat her down before settling beside her and taking her hands in mine.

"Please do not cry, I will take care of everything for you," I tried to soothe her but she gained back her strength suddenly and grabbed me.

"Papa planned this!" her eyes were wild with speculation. "He asked me what I thought of Raoul after meeting him, I said he was nice but Papa asked me to be totally honest with him. I told him he made me nervous because he stared at me very rudely and I didn't like the way he looked at me." She had a death grip on my arms. "Raoul told me Papa was going to give me to be his wife."

"What?" my mind whirled trying to put all the new information in place. "When did he..." I began but stopped. There was only one time he could have said such a thing to Christine. I felt the darkness stir. "Something is not right, if you were to be marrying into the family, Mr DeChangy would not have shipped you home. Or tried to..." I smiled at her to ease her worry and because I hated to see her so upset. Her eyes were full of stars, the tears flickering but not falling as she looked skyward.

"What have you done?" she whispered to someone other than me but I answered for him.

"He sought to see you cared for before he died." I touched her cheek to soften the blow of my words and to make her look at me. "I highly doubt he would want you married off to a man who would molest you in a public washroom but I think he only wished to ensure you would be cared for by any means, and I will take care of you." I felt like I was pleading my case to her but after believeing she was mine I could not stand that she may not be. "I will take care of this for you Christine. You need not worry."

"Oh Erik," her tears finally overflowed and she clutched my neck, nuzzling into me for comfort, letting me carry her weight and worries. "I thought my father would be with me forever and then he was suddenly gone," her voice was muffled and hitched by tears. "But because of that I now have you in my life and as horrible as it makes me feel to say this I...I think...it would be worse to lose you."

I rested my grotesque cheek on her hair, humbled by what she revealed to me. We held each other close in the silent garden, letting feelings go unsaid until she pulled back abruptly.

"That makes me a terrible person doesn't it?" her face was raw with grief and I wasn't sure I understood her.

"For wanting to be with me?" my negative thoughts always the foremost in my mind. She looked bewildered for a second and touched my face lightly.

"Not that Erik," she looked away, "I should be mourning him and yet part of me is glad of the events of the last few months of my life." She looked back at me with turmoil of her face, "Glad! Because I met you."

"Christine," I was shocked at her words. I meant so much to her. "Your father would rather that you were happy then mourning for him." I held the curve of her cheek in my gloved palm and she gave me a tiny smile. I was stalling, well she'd effectively veered us away from the reason I brought her out here but I was still stalling.

"There are a few things I need to ask you," I was nervous to ask for this information, was I ready to hear it? "Before I go to the DeChangys I need to know exactly what happened that day." I didn't need to explain which day, Christine pulled back and looked at me and her eyes were full of it. She gathered her hands into her lap where she could stare at them and ever so quietly surrounded by the still night, she told me.

Anger coiled inside me like a snake wanting to strike out but while looking at her it kept ebbing. I was thinking of her sleep heavy body in my arms scant hours ago and my necklace around her throat. Since Nadir had asked me about my feelings for her all I could think of was love. Is this love? Do I love her? Is that why she makes me feel so much and so good?

"Things are fuzzy then," she continued. "I remember being so frightened and just running away. Then I was on the roof wishing you'd come and take me away," she stopped and met my eyes finally. "Then I woke in your home."

I was locked in her eyes, held fast by her need for me. My deformed lip felt stiff with cold and my chest swelled with that comsuming pressure. I made a joke to ease the feeling.

"I suppose you got your wish then?" she smiled sadly and I wanted to wipe that sadness from her face. I pulled her into my arms once more, cupping her face in one long hand. "Tell me where you want to go and I will take you there," my voice soft with seriousness as she studied me quietly. Her eyes roamed my face and I felt the lack of face covering very sharply. I was so used to hiding, that without the mask I felt thrust out into the blazing sun with no refuge. But I suppose I would burn a lot to have her love.

She leaned into me and my arms automatically held her, "I just want to be with you Erik. Where ever we go...Just you..."

Mine. The wicked darkness chortled in my head. She is mine.

I closed my eyes and held her tightly as if to protect her from it but it was inside me and I couldn't protect her from myself...

Shut up! Just shut up...

---

Christine

---

Erik took my jacket and scarf and ushered me to the conservatory. Nadir was not there but Erik said he'd be right back so I wandered past the row of potted plants and to the piano. Erik had left it open from earlier and I sat down and put my fingers over the keys. I knew pitifully little about playing when compared to my instructor.

I sighed and played a few notes, tying them together in a familiar tune and then took my hands from the keys as the vibrations died on the air. The song made me think of Papa and panic began to well in my throat. How could I be so carefree when he had died, leaving me in a foreign city with no money, no family and now a husband that I didn't want. I took a few short breaths as the scariness of the situation began to take hold.

"Do you play?" Erik asked from halfway into the room. "It never occured to me that you might."

"Just a little," I smiled shakily. I was always so eager for him to distract me, to keep me from the dark. "Very little, really."

"Play for me," he stopped behind me and I looked over my shoulder up at him.

"I'm not very good," I hesitated.

"I'd like to make my own opinion. Play." I turned and found my starting keys at his command and played a simple classic piece Papa had taught me. I was concentrating on getting all the notes when Erik's left hand joined mine an octave down, complementing the simple tune. After a few more bars, I felt him lean over and his right hand joined in an octave above mine. He leaned over me as if sheltering me from behind, his arms stretched to span the keys, his masculine scent filling me, his face almost brushing mine and my fingers fumbled the keys. The music stopped.

"I can't concentrate with you so close," I laughed shyly, looking down as I collected my hands into my lap. He uncurled himself from around me and sat on the bench facing out.

"The feeling is mutual," he touched my elbow his eyes shinging like crystal as he drew me towards him. His dark lashes framed the lightness in his eyes, making them intensely piercing and I wanted to just melt into him.

"Where is Nadir?" I asked quietly wondering if kissing him was out of the question.

"I don't know," his fingers trailed down my arm from elbow to wrist in a gentle caress. "He will probably join us shortly. Do you still feel like singing? You needn't do it."

"I want to," I assured him as my hands began to travel around his torso. I craned my face up to his and he chuckled a little.

"I'm not sure now is an appropriate time..." he growled playfully and I smiled and rubbed my nose on his.

"Who says I'm doing anything at all..." I giggled and reached up to twine my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck as I rubbed his nose again. He felt so cold and I couldn't stop the pull to warm him. I closed my eyes and brought our faces together as I rubbed his nose with mine. I moved slowly, warming every inch of his face with my breath and little kisses, nuzzling into his face like I was a cat of some sort. I could smell his intoxicating scent and the skin at his nape was soft under my fingertips. His arms were unsure of where to go and he alternately put them around me and then slid them away. I suddenly realized I was breathing heavy and I wondered if Erik's eyes were closed or open. Was he watching me unravel or was he as drawn in as I was?

I pulled back leaving a breath of space between us but I wasn't brave enough to open my eyes. "Erik?" I breathed out his name, half question, half not knowing what to do. I wanted to kiss him, run my hands over his skin and through his hair, my ears were hot with the thought of it.

"I liked that," he purred, low and husky. His hands cupped my face tilting my chin up and I opened my eyes to see his heated gaze less than an inch away. "But I prefer to kiss your lips," he whispered and then gently covered my mouth. The first kiss was chaste but we both opened our mouths for the second kiss and I almost made a noise as his tongue rubbed mine, hot and wet...

Time spun away from me and my arms were around him grabbing fabric when I heard footsteps.

Erik stood up, breaking our kiss abruptly and turned me back to the piano keys with one hand. I blinked like an owl at the keys in front of me and Nadir came around the doorway.

"I thought I heard the piano," he made his way towards us slowly. "Was that you playing Christine?" his question surprised me and I felt my skin warm as I fiddled with my necklace.

"Yes," I suddenly wanted to laugh at myself. I had been caught red handed kissing Erik. A giggle escaped and I covered my mouth quickly. "I'm not very good," I tried to cover my thoughts and Erik touched my shoulder. I looked up with laughter on my face and his malformed lips twitched as he joined in my ruse.

"Just because you lack in repetoire does not mean you lack in talent. Your touch is actually very nice," his eyes danced at me and I wasn't sure if he was speaking of my piano skills or something else entirely. "Are you ready to sing?" I nodded and he went to help Nadir into a chair.

"Come sit, old man. I don't know why you don't use your cane," he cajouled easily.

"I hate it," Nadir said vehemently. "Makes me feel old as well as look it," the lines seemed often repeated and I stood to look through the binder of sheet music.

"Christine and I will entertain you for awhile. You'll love her voice, she is a marvelous singer," I blushed at Erik's compliment and glanced at them just as Nadir grabbed Erik to keep him from leaving his side. Nadir looked in pain.

"Erik?" he sounded very strained. "I must apologize to you."

"No," Erik dismissed it, "You were right, same team and all, you are only looking out for..." Nadir interupted.

"Not that," he waved his hand, "Though I have an idea that may work very well, we can speak of it later. I must apologize to you about the mask." Erik and I were both stunned. "It was horrid of me to say those things, you are you and your face is yours and..." he glanced at me and I looked away to try and pretend I wasn't eavesdropping. "It would appear to me that this is not the first time Christine has seen your face and yet I have never bothered to see you out of your mask. I should have told you to take it off the first day I saw you wearing it but...I'm so sorry, Erik." Nadir sounded very upset by this and Erik leaned over to pat him reassuringly on the arm but Nadir was not reassured by this gesture.

"Don't console me!" his voice raised, "I've done you wrong! Where is your anger?" Erik knelt in front of him.

"How could I be angry at you?" he asked quietly and Nadir's face contorted.

"Because I am an idiot! I thought you wore that damn thing because it made you more comfortable but it didn't, did it? You wore it because you thought I'd want you to, didn't you?"

Erik froze in place and tears filled my eyes. Nadir's voice dropped to a normal level.

"Your mother was a fool, and a horrid woman. You've never needed to cover your face, not for me anyway, and I should have told you that years ago. I'm sorry." Nadir reached out and placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "Don't cover yourself for me."

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I turned away to wipe them covertly. I could hear in Nadir's voice how he cared about Erik, how much he loved him and I hoped Erik heard it but I doubt he did. I'd finally gotten him to believe me but I had actions to back up my love. What could Nadir ever do to show him? How many years they've known each other and to never mention the mask?

---

Erik

---

My knees felt weak where I knelt. He was so right. All these years I thought my face would disgust him so I left the mask on, not trusting my instinct to trust him. The gloves had always stayed on too. My long skeletal fingers looked disgusting to me, especially when I thought of all the death they brought. Why would anyone want to see them? But Christine did. She liked them, said they were graceful and beautiful but then she never had to watch me using them for ill as he did.

I stood on my shaking legs, trying to be brave and face this. "I will refrain from doing so," I stripped off the gloves and went to the sideboard to put them down. My hands were shaking slightly and I braced them on the counter, contemplating a drink. So much was happening that I felt light headed and wobbly. The two people in this room had no qualms about my face. It made me want to go and show it to Berou and Molly and see if they shrugged it off so easily. Was it not terrible then?

I heard Christine sniff behind me and I turned to find she'd moved closer to Nadir.

"Are you crying, dear?"

"No, Erik, I just..." she trailed off looking at Nadir and something passed between them. I was lost. I didn't know what you could say without saying a word, and all of a sudden I was angry because they just had. I moved to the piano and sat down quickly before my legs gave out. I was disgusted with myself. How could I be angry that Nadir and Christine might get along? He was old enough to be her father, probably older than her father, she wouldn't abandon me for him. Would she?

I gripped my knees tightly trying to ebb the tremble in my hands. My fingers looked so white that they looked grey and blue but they continued to want to quake. The tremble travelled up my arms and shook my spine a few times before Christine touched my shoulder and I almost jumped. I hadn't heard her moving to me, so much for my keen senses.

She slid onto the bench seat beside me and put her hand over mine. Her eyes were shining brightly, the light within her balming me.

"Are you ready to play for me?" she asked sweetly and I looked at the keys because I wanted to collapse into her arms and kiss her until I couldn't breathe. She would kiss me back. I didn't imagine that. I didn't imagine her response to my touch. She loved me and wanted to touch me.

Her lips skimmed my ear and a few curls tickled my naked mutant face.

"I can feel your whole body trembling," she whispered, "What's wrong, Erik?" She held me to her and I swallowed tightly.

"I don't know," I breathed out.

"Tell me how to help you," she begged.

"I..." my throat choked up. My body was shuddering uncontrollably and I'm sure it was partial laudanum withdrawals, sleep deprivation, as well as shock at acceptance, both hers and Nadir's and fear of now losing her and being unable to do anything. "Touch me..." I managed and she did so much more.

She slid her hand up to my smooth cheek and pulled my face to her. Her lips pressed to my jutting cheekbone and she kissed my ruined skin. The skin that had always been ruined, I'd never been perfect, never, but she kissed me like I was.

"Shh," she cooed as she kissed my temple and then the hollow of my cheek again. Her fingers delved into my hair and she held my against her forehead, rocking me slightly. I felt tears collect in my eyes but remembered myself before they fell down my face. Nadir was sitting right there, I could cry in her arms another time. I took a deep breath of Christine's scent and opened my eyes. She smelled like heaven, like roses and like a woman. I forgot about my shaking body and turned to look at her.

"How did this beautiful angel fall at my feet?" I asked softly in Swedish feeling more like myself by the second. Christine smiled at me coyly, all the more enchanting because she was only being herself and was not planning her actions. I felt much better and wondered if I'd just had a small attack. I'd have to peruse my medical texts when I got back to the cave.

"Are you ready to sing?" she nodded. "Then let us warm up a touch?" I was back in control and she stood as I glanced at Nadir. He had watched the whole thing and I warmed slightly at the queer look on his face but turned back to the piano with a smile. "Some arpegios?" I raised an eyebrow at my lady and her lashes fluttered down as she nodded. A few curls of her hair fell in front of her face.

I let her sing her warm up without critiquing her. She really had a beautiful instrument but was so timid to let it loose. Sometimes, some moments she would open her throat and let herself go, caught within the music her pure clear soprano would fill my ears with perfection. It was for those moments that I kept pushing her. Before she knew it, she would always sing like that and then I could convince the managers they had a much better option for leading lady. Of course then I thought of all those men ogling her and wanted nothing more then to spirit her away to my underground cave where no one would ever lay eyes on her. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of the way the men at the Masquerade chased after her. They all wanted her. That would not stop if she became the lead soprano but it would garner her more respect than a dancer. I frowned at the keys and continued the warmup for about ten minutes before stopping to pick out some songs.

"Do you have one you'd like to sing?" I asked as I flipped through the music.

"Maybe the new lullaby we started to work with? It's very pretty."

"Good choice, but we'll start with something you know better," I placed her music on the piano and she glanced over it quickly with a nod. I raised my hands and locked eyes with her and saw how nervous she was. I smiled for encouragement and then we began. She was timid with her release but each note was clear and perfect and I took pride in that. I closed my eyes, my fingers didn't need them, to enjoy her voice ringing in my ears.

Sheer perfection in every aspect, just a little more volume, I coached her in my head and suddenly the volume was there. I looked over to silently encourage her but her eyes were closed and she was letting the music guide her. I swelled with pride. Not only is my lady the most radiant of goddesses but her voice is divine as an angel's song and she's come so far from having no confidence in herself.

Sort of like me.

I looked back at the keys. A lot like me.

When was the last time I felt this confident?

In my hay day. I was a confident, killing machine for those years. I remember enjoying the deaths at one point, looking into their frightened faces gave me a sick kind of pleasure. My grotesque face was the last one they would ever see. Killed by not a man but a monster.

My fingers had no more music to play and Christine was waiting for the next song. I put away my dark thoughts into the box in the back of my head and tried to continue with the same airiness I'd had a moment ago. Christine touched me part way through the next song as if she could sense my need. Her touch helped and I knew I was a fool for not asking her to marry me. No man could be as dumb as I. No monster either.

---

Christine

---

I kept glancing at Erik as I sang. He usually coached me more then this but tonight it was as if he would let me perform. Maybe he'd have comments about it afterwards. I tried to show him, I've learned from him, singing louder, opening my throat and letting go but he was not as involved. He seemed to be far away from me again and it was the oddest feeling. He was right there but I felt like I needed to find him.

I couldn't keep the music and Erik's behavior in my head at the same time so I concentrated on the music. Make Erik proud and impress Nadir.

I threw myself to the mercy of the music as it flowed from Erik's hands and after the fifth song when Erik turned on the piano bench Nadir burst into applause.

"Brava!" he exploded excitedly, "Marvelous Erik, Christine, simply marvelous!" I curtsied bowing my head and Erik laughed lightly.

"I told you she was good."

"Good? That was brilliant. You should be on stage, Christine." Nadir looked so pleased and a glance at Erik showed him smiling as well, his tiny happy smile.

"Thank you. Thank you both. Erik makes me better then I ever thought I could be. His playing is incredible," I held out a hand towards Erik, knowing I could never be this good without him.

"Yes, Erik is a brilliant musician." Nadir's voice was full of pride and I smiled over at Erik, enjoying our triumph to see him look surprised. He blinked and then seemed to collect himself turning to gather the sheets of music. I met Nadir's gaze and saw him watching Erik. There was so much unsaid between these two that I wanted to fix it for them.

"Can you play us some of your music, Erik?" I touched him lightly on the shoulder and let my hand linger. I glanced at Nadir with a smile. "I swear he has extra hands sometimes."

A surprised laugh bubbled through him and the tension in his shoulder eased. He looked up at me and the look in his eye held me still. He loved me. He had to, to look at me like that. He covered my hand with one of his, briefly squeezing and then he began to play.

Slow, serene, tearful music flowed from his exquisite hands, his long elegant fingers curling and stretching with the music. My vision filled with only Erik's hands dancing over the keys and the music caressed my mind, penetrated my subconscious and I succumbed to it willingly, sinking onto the bench beside this man and mystery. The music painted pictures behind my eyelids and I heard another song join with his. They weaved intricately together, the perfection of the sound awe inspiring and somehow complete until the silence was echoing in my ears.

I realized I was plastered to Erik's side and opened my eyes quickly to find both men staring at me.

"Have you heard that music before?" Nadir looked confused and I glanced at Erik as I answered.

"No." Erik had a small smile on his face, his eyes full of wonder as they roamed my face.

"I thought you always change your music, Erik?"

"I do," he answered quietly, his eyes not leaving mine and I felt like I was missing something.

Nadir moved behind us both and touched my shoulder, "But you sang with him! How could you know what to sing if you've never heard the song played?"

I sang? That must have been the other song that joined with his...but I couldn't look away from Erik. He was happy and relaxed and gazing at me with such tenderness in his eyes. The love for him swirled inside me, pressing for me to touch him. His smile widened at my pink countenance and I wanted to press kisses to his mottled upper lip as it curved upward into his empty cheek.

"How were you able to sing?" Nadir asked again but I had no answer when I didn't even have a clear memory of singing with him and I was too busy staring at Erik. His eyes sparkled with humor and love and it was the most beautiful thing to see.

Nadir's fingers snapped between our faces and we finally both tilted our heads up at him. He looked from me to Erik and back and then turned away with a sigh.

"Both of you come and sit. We have much to discuss."

---

Erik

---

I could tell that Nadir was annoyed. He hated mysteries but we had too many other things to worry about right now. I had a feeling her would request me play some other time with Christine beside me.

When she'd started to sing I'd been surprised. She couldn't know the song but I remembered her coming to me before as I played, touching me and singing of innocence and love. It was as if she could feel my music as I felt my music. I felt truly connected to her, almost as if our souls could intertwine through our music.

"Erik?" Nadir's scratchy voice penetrated my thoughts.

"Yes?" I'd missed what he said and he sighed heartily.

"Do I have to separate the two of you to get your full attention?" he looked like he wanted to laugh but was trying for business like.

"No," I said as seriously as I could while happy thoughts floated in my head. Christine and I WERE made for each other. There was no other explanation. If she could feel my music...

"Very well. I've come up with an idea of how to keep Christine with you but I ask that you hear me out. Do not form an opinion until you've heard the whole plan. Okay?" he stared directly at me, the same way he did when I wore the mask and I felt humbled by his acceptance.

"Yes, sir," I met his eye with no sarcasm in my voice.

His plan had merit. He and I would both go to the DeChangys, he as the man who found Christine and me the one she wanted to marry. I didn't want to blurt out my lack of name to give her so I kept quiet. He figured and I agreed that Mr DeChangy would frown upon Christine staying alone with me, a younger single man. I hadn't been able to think of a way around telling him that but Nadir had. Tell them Christine, post attack, ran from the opera house and in front of Nadir's carriage where upon seeing a damsel in distress, he swept in and took her home. She had been incoherent when I took her to my home, why not incoherent to Nadir's home. Then her and I would meet here as she recovered this weekend.

"Why would I be here to conveniently meet her?" we had to cover all the angles.

Nadir sat up straight and met my eyes, "We will tell them you are my son."

My mouth hung open. His son! He would do that for me...

"But I..." Nadir's hand came up to stall me.

"I've thought of everything already and this is the simplest way for everyone to get what they want. It isn't that far from the truth anyway."

Far from truth! I couldn't form a sound argument because the child inside me was jumping for joy. I didn't even know he was in there anymore. How many times in Persia did I wish I'd known my father and how many times did I imagine him like Nadir, firm and kind and interested in my education. Just someone who actually cared about me.

I looked to Christine, whose golden eyes bathed me in light. An angel and a father...

Why should I be so lucky?

"What do we do about my face?" I asked quietly and Nadir shrugged easily.

"The precise reason no one had ever known about you. You've preferred to stay on this property except to work and go to the opera with me where your mask has furthered certain ghostly rumors. We can even tell them you and Christine met at the Masquerade."

"We did meet there," Christine smiled at me and Nadir nodded.

"Precisely. One event you felt you could attend without curiousity killing everyone in the room."

He really had thought of it all and I suddenly felt very shy. It all came back to my face and it was bare for them both to see and my heart was beating erratically. We'd never talked about my face before and he was so nonchalant about it. It didn't disgust him, it didn't disgust Christine. They seemed to think it bothered me more then it obviously did not bother them.

Since last night with Christine, I'd wanted to look in a mirror at myself and try to see what is was she saw there. I remember my monstrous face as I child and I remember the horror reflected in people's eyes when they looked at me. I hadn't looked in a mirror in a long time and looking around me now I noticed that Nadir had no reflective surfaces in his home.

He said me being his son was not far from truth and I studied him carefully as he waited for me to say something. He had been a father to me those years in Persia until he gave me away to the Shah. But maybe if he hadn't done it he would have been killed or we both would have been killed. I never asked him why he left me there that day and he did end up paying for saving me...

"I would be honored to be your son," the words left my mouth in a swirl of Persian and Nadir relaxed.

"And I your father," was his response.

Christine looked at me with her eyebrows raised, not having understood either of us, but I couldn't speak. That pressure was pushing on my chest and it confused me greatly because I wasn't thinking of her right now, I was thinking how silly it was that he would be honored to pretend to be his servant's father.

"Forgive us, Christine," Nadir smiled. "Very rude speaking in another language. Erik, could you please fetch Berou and Molly from the kitchen. They will have to be told of our plan. I'll discuss our ruse with Christine."

I rose to abide by his wishes, the man who will tell the world he is my father. Perhaps 'world' is a little dramatic but respect flooded me all the same as I bowed my head to him.

"Yes, sir," I glanced at Christine and she looked panicked. The desperation in her eyes brought me back to earth and to our problems. I still had to get Christine out of this predicament and keep her safe with me.

"Ma belle ange," I closed the distance between us and cupped her jaw lightly, brushing my thumb over the apple of her cheek. "I will take care of everything, you have my word."

"I know, Erik," the panic didn't ebb from he eyes and I realized it was because I was leaving her alone with Nadir. How could she be frightened of him and not me? I twirled a curl of her hair around her finger and brushed it down her cheek. I watched her eyes soften at me and couldn't look away. Nadir was waiting for me to go so he could possibly interrogate her but that was all. Was she scared of a few questions? Questions didn't hurt. Fists hurt, knives hurt, whips, rocks, chains, sticks...

Why in the world am I thinking of those things while looking at my angel?

I bowed over her hand, "I will be right back," I breathed out in Swedish against her skin and felt her shiver. I turned and walked out before changing my mind to stay with her. She didn't need my protection from Nadir. From everyone else, yes, but Nadir? The man who says I honor him? No.

Besides I was sort of excited to see how the servants would react to my bare face.


	24. Love

**Author's note: Thank you to all who review! And to those who don't, please do! Please?? Do I need to beg? **

**I just wanted to make mention of another new POV in this chapter and remind you that Erik has just left Christine alone with Nadir for a second...**

**Enjoy!**

---

Christine

---

I stared at my hands, scared to meet Nadir's eyes. I wasn't really scared of him, but I didn't know him and his questions made me uncomfortable. I felt like I was guilty of something and he was trying to find out what.

"Christine, do you realize you are very pretty?" shock made me meet his eyes, why would he… "You could have any man you desire?"

I looked down at my lap, "Even Erik?" I asked timidly, wondering if he was going to let it happen.

"Erik is very unique, in very many ways." He paused briefly, "Has he told you any of his past?"

Was that what this was about? Did he want to make sure I knew the gruesome details before I gave myself over to Erik? I sat up straight and frowned at Nadir. I thought he cared for Erik but how could he want to keep me from him? I would make him happy and love him.

"Erik told me about Persia and the Shah," I thought of his ivory back laced with marks.

"He was a highly trained killer," I interrupted because I didn't want Erik to hear us say these things.

"They beat him," I whispered close to tears.

"They made him into a weapon for a very powerful man. You have no idea the things he is capable of doing. I'm surprised he told you any of his past, it is not pleasant at all. There are things that Erik himself doesn't even know," and with that Erik came back into the conservatory.

My eyes flew to his approach, he looked angry but the look vanished as he met my eye.

"Christine darling," his liquid voice soothed me and he hurried his pace to touch my flushed cheek as I gazed up at him with moist eyes. He took in my rosy countenance and watered eyes and cut a harsh look at Nadir.

"Can I not leave her with you?" his voice hummed with accusation and I grabbed his hand, not wanting to cause strife between them.

"Erik," I pulled on his hand to get his attention but he would not be swayed.

"Twice now you've brought her to tears while I've been occupied. If you are trying to prove something to me you might as well out with it and quit punishing her!" he commanded angrily. Nadir looked annoyed.

"Do you wish for her to be completely dependant on you?"

"I much prefer to have her dependant then unable to even look at me!" Erik's voice quivered with emotion and I wrapped both my hands around his increasingly stiff one. He was starting to vibrate again.

"You can not hide her away from everything."

"Even if that's what she truly desires?"

"No one truly wants that."

They both fell silent, staring at each other, Nadir's words meant for both Erik and I. Molly and Berou were standing at the entrance waiting to be called in. They both were looking at their toes.

Nadir broke first with a sagging of his shoulders and a wave of his hand. Erik turned to me and raised my hand to help me up. I stood and Nadir quickly spoke up.

"Where are you going?"

"Explain it to them yourself!" Erik snapped angrily and I curled my fingers between his as we walked away passing Molly and Berou. Neither of them looked at us as we walked quickly from the conservatory and I glanced over my shoulder to see Nadir looking exasperated.

I let him drag me silently halfway down the hall where I finally piped up. I felt horrible that I was making them fight so much.

"I'm so sorry, Erik," he stopped and his attention finally came back to me though I could still feel the tension in his hand.

"Sorry?" he was surprised, his dark brows curved into his forehead. "I am the one who should beg your forgiveness. I speak for you and decide your fate without consultation. Then I drag you away like a prize of some sort. It is unforgivea…" I laid my fingers on his mouth to stop him.

"I want you to decide my fate," that sounded funny so I tried to explain myself better. "I've never had to take care of myself, I like it when you take care of me." I stopped talking because I sounded like a little girl. "I'm sorry I make you and Nadir fight. I don't mean to." I begged apology with my eyes and he looked at me sadly. I hated seeing him so sad.

"I know dear," he tucked a loose curl behind my ear and his fingers felt like ice.

"You're freezing, Erik," I tried to take his hand but he stepped back. That one small step hurt me more then I let on and I cocked my head at him curiously.

"Don't worry, I'm just not used to going without my gloves," he rubbed his hands together and we stared at each other. I searched his face wondering why after everything he would step away from me and then suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed me by the arms.

"Do you see it?" he asked earnestly, confused hurt feelings swimming in his eyes. "It's been so long since I've even looked at it that I forget…Is it truly terrible?"

His face? He was asking about his face? There was only one thing to say…

"It's not terrible at all," I touched his jaw with soft fingertips wanting to tell him I thought he was handsome but he looked away.

"Berou would not meet my eyes, not that he ever does, and Molly," he laughed bitterly, "She practically weeps if I talk to her."

I was stunned. How could people he knew be so cruel? His face was nothing! How could they shun him because of it? That must have been why he was angry. I swept my hands up his face and he looked at me sadly.

"You are the most attractive man I've ever met," his lips twitched.

"Am I the only man you've met then?"

"Are you making light of my compliment?" he chuckled lightly and pulled me into his arms.

"No dear, I am honored by your words of kindness," I struggled in his embrace and he let me go so I could cross my arms at him and huff.

"They are not just words of kindness," I didn't want to fight with him but I wanted him to know I was serious. "I like the way you look." His face frowned and smoothed but frowned again and I bit back a sigh. "What if I told you that I don't think I'm pretty?"

"Impossible!" he gasped, "Your radiance could block the sun, your beauty rivals…"

I held up my hand and he stopped. "And when I stand beside Meg Giry I could pass for a pageboy."

"Never," he muttered with a scowl.

"It is because you," I almost said because you love me, "Because you see me differently just as I see you differently." I let my words soak in before adding more. "You are my knight in shining armor; of course you would be attractive to me."

He smiled at me and reached for me again and this time I didn't push him away, I clung to him, letting my love pour between us. His hands splayed around my corseted waist, the long piano fingers strong and sure as he put his lips to my forehead. I ran my hands down his torso and wished we could go home. I wanted to see his ivory torso corded with muscle, I wanted to lie next to him in bed and talk into the night, I wanted him to look in my eyes and tell me he loved me.

---

Erik

---

She was a warm pliant angel in my arms. Her words of acceptance did much to wipe away the anger I felt. All people would never accept me but I had her and Nadir.

I cringed thinking of yelling at Nadir. He was trying to help us stay together and I was acting like a child. I sighed and relaxed into Christine's arms. I would have to apologize to Nadir when he was done with the servants. Hopefully they didn't hate me so much that they would ruin this for us all. But no, they owed too much to Nadir, they would comply.

"What did Nadir say to upset you?" I kept my voice low to not ruin the quiet moment.

"It was nothing, Erik, I just cry too easily," she nuzzled against me and I twirled some of her loose curls around my fingers. I was obsessed with her hair, the way it looked and felt and smelled. If I had to die I think I would like to be suffocated by her hair…

The servants came into the hall and I stiffened against Christine as she looked up. Neither one of them looked at me but Berou bowed to us.

"Master Erik, I will prepare your room for you."

Molly bobbed a cursty and said, "Mlle Daae, when you are ready to retire I will show you to your chamber. You can find me in the kitchen," and she hurried off.

Christine looked up at me a little bewildered and I rolled my eyes.

"Nadir has been plotting." I took her hand in mine and we started back to the conservatory.

"Please don't fight with him, Erik. Not because of me, I feel terrible…"

"Hush dear, I won't fight with him. It's actually a good idea to stay here. If you've been here since Thursday you should know the house and grounds and the servants and you should have a room. This will give you the opportunity."

Nadir was pouring a drink when we re-emerged. He didn't meet my eye and I could feel he thought I would argue with him. The tension in his frame was easy to spot and I was ashamed that I'd gotten so angry at him. I took a breath.

"Thank you for having us both in your home."

It was nice to see the tension lessen and a less trained eye would not have noticed the surprised blink of his eyes before he gained control of his features.

"Of course," he made his way slowly back to the sitting area. "We have to start thinking and feeling like Christine has been here since Thursday and that you have always been here."

"I suppose I will fetch us some clothing and personal effects," I saw Christine back to her chair and then decided to sit her on the couch so I could sit next to her.

"Best if you go later tonight," I nodded my agreement with him.

"We need to discuss with Christine what our plans are. She needs to be fully aware of the lies we plan to tell."

"Yes, she does," Nadir sat across from us and put down his half filled glass. "Mr DeChangy may ask to see you. Would you be willing to lie to his face?"

Christine's hands tightened, "I don't like to lie but the only thing I'd be lying about is who found me." She suddenly bowed her head and blushed, "I suppose you should know I was in only my wrapper, the shoulder was torn and," she swallowed, "I had blood on my hands."

I heard Nadir breath a curse and covered Christine's clenched hands with mine, "I will do everything I can to make this go our way," I promised.

Nadir faltered, "But if your father wrote a contract…"

Christine's head came up, "Will I have no choice?"

"There is always a choice," I said firmly, staring Nadir down. I didn't want him filling Christine's head with worries.

"Not if it is a signed docu…"

"There is still a choice!" I was getting angry at him again.

"If her father…"

"If? If? IF? When we have more information we can say for certain instead of playing with If's."

"It is good to cover all the possibil…"

"Enough!"

"Stop shouting at me. I am only trying to help."

"Stop bringing up all the bad possibilities."

"Bad or good, we should discuss everything with her."

"No."

"Is this how you plan to care for her, by keeping her in the dark?"

"The dark is safe."

"You are truly exasperating, Erik!"

"Talk about something else!"

"Fine! What kind of future do you see for the two of you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What kind life can you lead living in those dank cellars?"

"That is none of your..."

"Where will she sleep?"

"That most certainly is not..."

"When were you planning to tell me of your romantic involvement?"

"You are being very..."

"Exactly how involved are you?"

"Nadir..."

"Involved enough to marry her?"

"I can't!" I heard her sharp intake of breath and cursed the dark seething anger inside me. Her mouth formed a surprised oh, a rosy blush on her cheeks, and so many things flickered through her eyes that I couldn't name them all.

"I'm sorry Christine," I pleaded for understanding, "I will take care of you and…" she stood abruptly and I could see the pain in her eyes.

"It's okay, Erik, I know you don't love me. It's okay." She turned to Nadir. "Thank you for dinner. Thank you for looking out for me," her voice cracked and she stepped away. "I think I will retire early. Thank you again for letting me stay here." She turned to leave and paused, "Good night, Erik." She whispered breathily and her eyes were shining with tears.

I couldn't speak to stop her or console her as she left the room with her hand over her mouth. I stared at the door helplessly, the room full of silence. When I finally turned back to Nadir I felt like I might cry right in front of him. How could I have said that? How could I hurt her like that? She deserved so much better then me and yet it was me that she loved.

"Now I don't know what to say," Nadir started and I had to swallow hard.

"Remind me never to ask you to change the subject again." I saw Nadir's drink still half full on the table and thought about tipping it back. Instead I stood to get my own drink. I was feeling shaky again and wondered if Christine's proximity kept me sane.

"I should never have asked all those things."

"No you should not have," I poured myself a good quantity of scotch whisky.

"Why does she think you do not love her?" Nadir asked quietly.

"I'm not exactly a trained courtier, how should I know?" I spat out as I drank the whole glass and began pouring more.

"Have you told her?" I almost spilled my next drink at his words. Tell her?

"But I don't even know what love feels like…" I sounded so weak.

"Everything you said to me earlier spoke of your love for her."

It sounded so good but we were forgetting, "None of that matters if I can't marry her." I tipped the glass and another double shot burned down my throat.

"Erik! I've never seen you drink this much," he was concerned and I took a couple deep breaths to try to calm the fire in my chest.

"I believe…I'm feeling…withdrawals. I haven't taken laudanum in four days."

"What? Have you slept at all?"

I recalled waking this afternoon with Christine in my arms and it almost brought a smile to my face but then I remembered the way she left just now with her hand over her mouth. "Barely," I answered him morosely.

"Well, no wonder you are drinking," Nadir came to my side. "You need sleep," he gripped my shoulder and the gesture made me feel good.

"I'll need to take Midnight to fetch our things," I changed the subject and Nadir put the stopper in the glass decanter with authority.

"He's your horse, no one here can handle him," we stood there silently for a moment and I waited for him to leave so I could bang out an angry tune on the piano. "Why can't you marry her?" he asked softly.

My lips curled up in disgust of myself.

"I don't have a surname." My statement hung in the air, not sounding nearly as terrible as I thought it would and I realized I should have told Christine long before our first kiss.

"But you do, Erik," I looked over at him stunned. Did he have information on me? "Karan," he said quietly and my mouth fell open. "When I said you are my son, I meant it." With that he turned and limped from the conservatory, sans cane.

I collapsed on the piano bench but found my thoughts were not so angry anymore. My hands began to stroke the keys unconsciously as I thought of everything that had been happening to me. Nadir was giving me his name and Christine was giving me her heart. What had I ever done to deserve so much? What was I going to do now? Would Christine ever forgive me? The music in me died and I closed up the piano and headed to the stable.

---

Nadir

---

As I passed Christine's room on my way to bed, I could hear her sobs echoing from inside. I knew her tears were partially because of my indelicacy but it wasn't me she would want consolation from. She was thoroughly taken with Erik. Chills ran up and down my back and I hurried to my room. The sound of her heartbreaking grief had resurrected painful memories of the past.

A girl obsessed with Erik, crying her heart out...

Would this be a repeat? I worried briefly but knew this had to turn out better. There was no Shah here to take Erik away and Christine wasn't crying over Erik's face but the thoughts had reared their ugly heads and would not leave me alone.

I would never forget the party I'd held that ended our peace all those years ago.

Dinner had concluded and the small party had ajourned to the sitting room where I'd placed a piano for Erik's lessons. He was a quick learner of anything and everything but he adored the piano. Some nights he would stay up all night saying he had to keep playing and still he would be serving me my tea in the morning looking like he'd slept the whole night.

So, we had ajourned and when Erik brought in the sherbert for dessert I asked him to entertain us.

He'd done so many times before but this was the first time a child was present. Well, Anya was hardly a child but she certainly wasn't fully matured either. She was roughly the same age as Erik but had led a far different life. Anya was the only daughter of a very wealthy family. She stood to inherit much and men were already paying dearly to have an audience with her.

Erik played his strange haunting music and Anya rose from her seat. She began to dance. We all thought she merely wanted some of the attention for herself but when her parents tried to make her stop she would not. Now that I'd witnessed the phenomenon again I would say that she had been unable to stop.

They left quietly that night but the summons to the Shah's hall came early the next morning asking me to bring my masked servant. Apparently Anya desired Erik to be her personal slave and had petitioned the Shah to take him from me. First though, she wanted to see his face, it was highly unusual for a man to hide his face.

When the mask came off Anya screamed in disbelief and horror and tears had poured from her eyes and soaked her veils. Her parents tried to remove her from the hall but she trashed and carried on like a wild animal, screaming intermittently that it was just a dream, a dream.

Upon closer inspection, the Shah decided he would keep Erik for himself. He told me that Anya's family wanted Erik dead but he would take him on as his personal hand servant so I need not worry for his safety.

Not everything the Shadow of God says can be taken as the absolute truth but I believed him that day because I didn't know what else to do. Something about Erik's music had affected the quiet polite young girl. She was never the same after that day. She was a shell of the girl she had been, as if Erik's music had the power to steal a part of her being. She was never whole again after that day.

I never told Erik any of this. I loved his music and never wanted him to stop playing for me. His songs did have an odd pull to them but it had never overwhelmed me as it obviously did to Anya and Christine.

Should I tell them this? Would it impact their relationship? Christine obviously loves him and if Erik would just take his head out of the sand he would realize he loves her too. Would that keep her safe from his soul stealing music?

I had no answers for myself. I could not tell either of them this if it had the slightest chance of ruining their happiness. The way they had looked at each other after they had finished their joined song had been magical. I couldn't ruin that for Erik. I'd already caused him too much hurt in his lifetime. I would keep this to myself.

---

Christine

---

I lay in yet another unfamiliar bed and cried. I cried for Papa, for me and for Erik. 'I will take care of you' he said, as if I was only still a child to him. Did our night of love mean nothing to him? Was he just using me? I cried and cried and cried until I lay tired and worn in my new bedroom.

I must have drifted to sleep finally because the sound of the door woke me some time later. The single candle I'd left burning was still flickering to fend off the dark for me and I could see a shadow in my room. Complete with hat and cloak I knew my visitor was Erik, besides that I could feel his presence humming along my skin.

Should I call out to him? Part of me was angry that he didn't need me like I so obviously needed him but I just didn't want to be angry. I wanted to shower him with love until he fell in love with me.

"Erik?" I called gently and he jumped from where he'd been putting my bag. Shadows played over him like he had the ability to call the shadows to do his bidding.

"Forgive me for waking you," he whispered softly, "I wanted to bring you your things for the morning." I sat up pulling the bedclothes with me. He was fully dressed, mask and all, probably just back from getting the clothing.

"I thought you said you wouldn't enter my bed chamber without permission," I suppose a little anger towards him couldn't be helped. How could he not marry me after the things we did last night? But the way he bowed his head to me made me angrier at myself for giving in to the immature urge to hurt him. Hasn't he been hurt enough, stupid girl?

"Forgive me again but…that was before you slept in…my bed. I didn't think you would mind…" he sounded very strained as he trailed off. I let the bedclothes drop to my lap and sat before him in only my thin chemise. Let's see him resist me now.

"Why don't you want to marry me?" I held my breath waiting for him to look up at me. He removed his hat first and the shadow it cast over his mask disappeared. His mask gleamed brightly in the darkness and he slowly raised his eyes but dropped them once they laid on me. I bit my lip.

"I said that I could not," he told the floor, "Not that I did not want to." He twirled the hat in his gloved fingers. "Remember how I told you about my birthday? Well…," he paused as if embarrassed, "There were other things I never learned about myself. No church would marry us without my surname."

My fingers curled into handfuls of the sheets. Was that the reason he couldn't marry me? I had already assumed he didn't know his last name because he never revealed it to me.

"Your surname?" I asked just to be certain.

"The only name I've ever known is Erik. How could I ask you to be my wife and not even provide the simplest of things, a name to give you…" My anger melted at the sorrow in his voice. There was a time when he spoke to me and I heard nothing in his voice but its cold beauty, but now when he spoke to me his voice was always infused with his emotions. I hated when he was sad. Let me make you happy.

"My love does not change simply because you have only one name." I thought of something important too. "Besides, if you had your surname, Mr DeChangy would eventually suspect foul play, would he not?"

"What? How?" he was at least looking at me now and I felt proud that I'd thought of something that he had not.

"If we were married and my new name was not Karan, don't you think Mr DeChangy would suspect we lied?" He looked shocked for a second before turning towards the window.

"You are very correct, my dear," he mussed, as he gazed over the dark gardens. I could all but see the gears turning in his head as he puzzled things out. I felt a great sadness come over me as I looked at him. Everything was so easy for me. I loved him and wanted him for my husband but he had so many barriers to break down. No one had ever cared for this man and the injustices he'd endured made me want to scream. I wanted to give him a real life, show him that not everyone will judge him and not everyone is cruel.

He still had his hat in his hands, his cloak covering most of his lean frame from view but his height and presence still made my heart thump erratically in my chest. I didn't ever want him to leave me and I certainly didn't want him to leave this room now that I had him here. I just had to figure out how to get him undressed and into my bed. I slipped out of the covers quietly and hung my legs over the edge.

"Erik?" I called sweetly. He turned and I watched his eyes skim down my bare legs. I held out my hand with my heart in my throat unable to voice my desire. He trailed his eyes from my hand to my face and I couldn't even smile for him because I was so afraid he would just walk out.

He did not. He came slowly towards me tossing his hat onto the table with eerie precision. The night suddenly seemed unreal and I felt transported to another place. His mask and gloves glowed bright white and the rest of him was made of darkness. My one candle seemed to throw more shadows than it devoured and I stood as he neared me, entranced by the smooth movement of his body and the banked heat in his eyes. I reached up before I lost my nerve and undid the ties of his cloak. It slithered to the ground around our feet and he stopped reaching for me.

"I should not be here," he whispered but made no move to leave. We stood so close to one another but neither one of us reached for the other. I looked up into his eyes and felt our connection race through my body. Communication of love and desire were all the same thing tonight and I realized that he didn't have to love me, I'd been made to love enough for both of us. I reached up with trembling hands and began to unbutton his jacket.

"Do you really want to leave?" I asked nervously, as I finished the buttons and began on his ascot. He swallowed against my fingers.

"No," he assured me and I continued to undo his tie. I couldn't look at him as I undressed him and so he watched me silently as I undid the knot and pulled the fabric free. Once the tie was gone I courageously met his eye and found them burning with heat. I swayed at the intensity of his desire for me and wished that everything was as easy as our attraction to each other.

Erik touched my cheek lightly with his gloved fingertips and I thought he was going to kiss me but he cursed and turned away. Before I could protest he was roughly removing his gloves and throwing them on the ground with excessive force then he wrenched the mask from his face and chucked that away from himself too before he turned back around and stood before me, bared. I smiled because I had a feeling I was about to be thoroughly kissed and he groaned and grabbed me.

Our lips met with a fierceness that had my hands responding in kind. I arched against him, grasping him tightly to my body, my nails curling into his clothing wishing there was a way to wrap more of myself around him as he reacquainted himself with the taste of my mouth. I floated in the ecstasy of his kiss. If this was the only way he loved me, I would take it.

He broke away from my mouth abruptly. "I should go," he repeated shakily but I grabbed his arm. I had a solid argument.

"What if I only have tonight to be with you?" He opened his mouth, maybe shock, maybe to argue, maybe to accede but I forestalled any reaction with my hand on his lips. "Please stay," I whispered, feeling wanton but womanly as my body brushed his. I was being naughty but I felt powerful and with his eyes burning at me I felt invincible.

---

Erik

---

I stared at her in the dimness; the one candle glimmered off her braided curls and golden aura. It looked as if she'd been crying but God, she was beautiful to mine eyes.

What if tonight was our last? What if her father had written her away? What if she was taken from me? Would I kill them all to keep her? Was there any other way? I could bribe Mr DeChangy with money or just leave Paris now with Christine but we both already had so many reasons to stay. Nadir's angry questions might not have been appropriate but they were still poignant. What kind of life would we lead? How involved was I?

I was fully involved. I just had to convince Mr DeChangy that she loved me and I would marry her so no need for his son to take that responsibility. I hoped it would all go smoothly tomorrow and then we could plan out our future. I had my business to run and Christine could easily rise to the Lead Soprano at the Opera House. We both stood to make a lot of money in the next few years; enough that after less than a decade we could leave Paris and never look back.

Tonight would not be our last. Tonight was the second of many. I was determined to keep her but I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to sleep with her again.

"I will stay," I breathed out and firmly took her in my arms. Her chin tilted up, a smile curling her lips and all I could think of was how arousing it had been to have her take off my clothing.

She was undressing me, smiling at me, loving me…

I took her mouth and she melted against me. Her body slid on mine alluringly and my hands slid down her back, my fingers traced over her spine, feeling the smooth nubs of her vertebrae. Her hair, neatly braided for the night, left her shoulders, neck and her whole upper body alarmingly uncovered and unprotected. I covered it with my hands, my arms wrapped around her, my lips on her neck, words spoken against her warm skin as a talisman against evil.

Suddenly my hands were shaking and I pulled back from her intoxicating kiss, trembling quite badly. She felt it because she grabbed at me.

"Erik, are you okay?" she touched my face and a shaky, dizzy rolling wave passed over me. I half fell, half sat on the edge of her bed.

"I think," I felt breathless, "Withdrawals…" I held my forehead in one hand while the world spun around. What was happening to me?

She crawled onto the bed beside me and began stroking my back soothingly. "Is it the same as before in the conservatory?" First the surname revelation and now this, she was proving to me tonight just how smart she is behind her quiet shyness.

"I think so," I was starting to feel better already but continued to let her comfort me. It felt so incredibly good to have her touch me that I wanted to just let her pet me all night.

Her hand slid down my back and up and down and up and I turned to look at her glowing eyes. Her light seemed to come from inside her and it drew me like a moth to a flame. I, the dark ugly creature of the night, want to burn in your presence.

"How do you feel?" her fingers combed through my hair, "Better?" She raised her eyebrows hopefully and joy filled my heart. Joy in us, in her…

I wanted to grab her again but restrained myself, "I always feel better when I'm with you." This was love.

"Good." She kissed my nose and I goofily smiled with her as her hand rose to my face. Her fingers traced my deformity and it made me shudder. In her presence it was so easy to forget about it, to forget about everything. Was that also caused by love? Was everything with her about love?

"Christine?" I hesitated, taking her hand from my face. "I need to ask you something?"

Her brows curved up curiously and she was innocence and beauty in one. She was my innocent beauty.

"Earlier, in the conservatory you said that I don't love you," her eyes flicked down shyly. "I just wondered if it was my actions that led you to the conclusion that I don't love you as opposed to loving you…" I sounded like an idiot but her eyes came back up and her pretty mouth opened in disbelief.

"Not your actions…you've never said…" her lashes fluttered, "I mean you said…last night…you want me but you've never told me…that…that…" I tilted her chin up and her eyes were wide. I was so dumb.

"I have been gravely remiss in telling you just how much you mean to me," my voice was lowered and it was partially because I was mad at myself for being so stupid and partially because the reminder of last night together aroused me. "It took me much longer than it should have to realize all I was feeling for you stemmed from one thing. I do want you," my lips trailed over her temple, "But that is not all." I cupped her face so she could look in my eyes. "I love you, Christine."

I kissed her nose as she'd done to me. "My radiant beauty, I love you."

I kissed her eyes as they closed for me. "My goddess of light, I love you."

I kissed her mouth gently. "My inquisitive sprite, I love you."

I kissed her throat. "Ma chardonnerette, my angel of song, I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you so much," she whispered fiercely before wrapping her arms around my neck and bringing our mouths together. The bright glaring light of love burst through me and I was awash in happiness. We loved, the rest could figure itself out.

She left my mouth to press kisses all over my face, ruined, smooth, she had no prejudice and I found myself kissing her back, whatever part of her face was at my lips I kissed until she stopped and unleashed the most disarming smile at me.

I felt like I was floating in a sea of bliss and had no idea what to expect next. Her smile was so bright I felt blinded. She was overwhelming to me in so many ways that I briefly thought maybe she was causing my attacks but that would be absurd. She soothed me out of both of them. I reached for her and she came to me like my hands were calling her body into them. I rolled her onto the bed and she giggled in my embrace.

"I am yours, Christine." The mischievous light left her eyes and they glowed at me lovingly.

"I am yours, Erik." She vowed.

"Forever." I added, never wanting to be without her now.

"Forever," she promised me.

Emotion swelled in my heart and I claimed her mouth as mine. Our arms held, our hands cherished and our mouths gave, took and pleasured. When I was with her my face was whole. When I was with her, I was whole.

---

Christine

---

He loved me!

Just when I thought he'd pushed me away for the last time, that I could not cry anymore, it was all wiped away. Nothing else mattered. I didn't have to worry about a thing because Erik wanted me AND loved me.

I ran my hand over his sunken cheek and he didn't flinch at all. My heart expanded to fit all that I felt for him inside. I never thought I would feel so treasured; I never thought I would be so important but to this man I was.

I am yours but you are mine, I thought, as my hands raced over his clothing. I could feel his hard body under the luxurious fabric and I wanted to strip him out of the clothing quite badly. I started on the buttons of his vest and he growled at me.

"What are you doing, vixen?" I blushed at my new title but felt brave at his admission of love.

"Were you planning to sleep in your clothes?" I arched one brow at him as best as I could. He laughed softly and nuzzled into my neck.

"So kind of you to help me get ready for bed…" I squirmed as he nibbled lightly on my ear.

"I was…just trying to be helpful…" I said airily and then moaned lightly as my thoughts scattered while his tongue danced over my ear.

"You are…very helpful…mmm…and very sweet…" he got distracted by my neck and began trailing hot kisses down to my shoulder. When he reached the end he rose up above me and licked his lips, "So sweet…" he purred seductively and heat rushed through me as he stared down at me.

He kissed me hard, pressing me down into the mattress and then was gone, "I'll be right back," whispered on the air before the clicking of the door. I looked around the room to see if I was alone and saw that I was.

I flopped down onto the bed with a sigh.

He loved me and he was coming back. I giggled and crawled under the blankets. Would tonight be a repeat of last night? I blushed thinking of it and changed my train of thought. He had two shaking episodes in one night. He said from withdrawals but I was pretty sure not sleeping has not been helping him. I wanted to lecture him on taking care of himself but he was a grown man and didn't need me pecking at him. But the moment I felt like he wasn't doing a good job of it I was going to bring it up.

I lay in bed waiting for him and strange feelings were coursing through me. Excitement and fear and anticipation. Would he make me his in every way tonight? No, I hoped not here in Nadir's home.

The candle flickered and it could only be from the breeze of the door opening and closing. I sat up and found him standing near the door in just a pair of black pants. I didn't want to stare at the lower region of his body so I wasn't sure if they were the same sleeping attire he had worn last night but it didn't really matter as he began to walk slowly towards me.

"Should I blow out the candle?" his voice made me yearn for the dark and I nodded dumbly, biting my lip as I stared at his naked torso. He leaned over and blew it out gently. "You have nothing to fear when I am with you," he tried to reassure me with his words but as he came closer to the bed I was very scared.

"I fear many things," I spoke nervously.

"Do not be frightened, pet, I am here to keep you safe." He slid into the bed beside me and my hands were on him, sliding, feeling, grabbing him however I could. I sighed in relief as our bodies twined together in bed and we both laid our heads down on the pillows.

"I do feel safe when I'm with you, even in the dark, which means a lot," I laughed lightly as I snuggled closer to his hard muscled body. "I've been afraid of the dark all my life."

"The dark has always been a place of safety for me…" he spoke softly, "But I think I have a new refuge now."

I met his eyes to make sure I wasn't misunderstanding him, "Me?"

"Your arms," he smiled and kissed me innocently. "Your smile," kiss, "Your eyes," kiss, "Your touch…" I let my hands wander over his body as we loved each other in the dark of my new bedroom. His skin was slightly cold and I wondered if it would warm him if I took off the last of my clothing and lay with him devoid of cover, devoid of self-consciousness, sharing the warmth of my body with him and the movement of our bodies together.

Good lord! Here we are down the hall from Nadir! I pulled away to get control of myself and Erik nodded.

"We should stop," his melodious voice purred in my ear and I couldn't help pouting.

His finger traced my temple gently, "Such disappointment on your face…" he whispered, awed by my desire for him but it embarrassed me. Didn't he feel that sense of completion when we were together? Didn't he want to see where it would lead us?

Again! Forgetting you are a guest in someone's home, Christine!

Oh, but he was like a drug to me. The more I had of him the more I wanted and I couldn't resist reaching for his face for one last kiss. He obliged me and we tangled our arms about each other for a few long minutes until Erik broke away.

"We really must stop," his voice teasing me and I rolled away feeling insecure. Why didn't I excite him as he did for me? Why was he so controlled and I was so willing?

Erik laughed suddenly, low and rolling through me like a wave of pleasure. "Patience, my love," he pulled me back towards him and nestled our bodies together. His body curved behind mine, his nose buried in the nape of my neck, his arm around my stomach to hold me close and I settled, content and happy.

---

Erik

---

Our bodies were like two parts to a whole and I curled behind her perfectly, feeling peace and joy run through me rampantly. She snuggled her body closer, shifting back with her hips and her bottom moved over my groin. I choked on the breath in my throat and covertly scooted my hips back from her, pressing my forehead to her shoulder.

That felt…wickedly indescribable.

I wanted to pull her back against me and rub myself on her like some kind of animal. I schooled her to be patient but I was dreaming of entirely inappropriate things I was going to do with her when we were finally married. Just a few more hurdles to jump…

I put my nose in her neck, lured by her siren's scent. I'd always been so sure that I was destined to walk the world alone but suddenly I had Christine.

There was no way I would let the DeChangys take her. If it came to running away then so be it. I would try to do things the right way but if they began to slide sideways then screw them all.

Her breathe was slowing and to encourage her to sleep I began crooning an old folk song very softly. She made a noise, like a squeaking mumble and then sighed contentedly if I had to characterize the sigh.

I lay awake and listened to her breath; the weight of her against me a comfort and it wasn't long before my eyelids grew heavy. Dreams were a possibility but sleep that was not drug induced…

Crowds were suddenly cheering from all sides and I turned quickly as the snakes hissed threateningly at me. I spied the blade that had been carefully placed at the furthest point away from me, the hardest place to reach. Sometimes I wondered if the Shah was really trying to get me killed. I watched the snakes as they coiled around each other, at least a dozen of them but only the three large ones were the real danger. I timed my movement perfectly and took a running start to dive over the smaller ones where I rolled and sprang up in one deft move, still running to the knife. I picked it up feeling like I'd already won the battle but it crumbled in my hands.

I turned and put my back to the wall and hands came out of the stone to hold me down. The snakes hissed as I struggled against my captors grasp. Cold metal bars pressed to my back as many hands came through the bars to rake at my mask.

"Take it off! Take it off!"

One lucky hand caught the part by my lip and ripped it off, tearing my face with it. I screamed in pain as blood filled my mouth and stumbled forward towards the snakes. They lunged at me and my face smacked into a hard stone wall.

I groaned and wanted to slide down the wall in defeat but somehow stayed standing.

"I want you to beat him until he begs for mercy."

My legs trembled where I stood. I would never beg but maybe I would pass out soon. That would be nice.

The whip snapped across my back and my body tightened. Another and another, they came faster than I thought any one person could beat me. There must be two of them, or maybe a constant stream of men sent down to punish me. Whatever the case I was trembling on my legs, my cheek still pressed to cold stone, my hands bound up and away from my body so that when I did pass out I would just hang there. No blissful slide down to the floor for me. Each crack of the whip sent shivers through me and blood was running down my legs.

All I had to do was beg…

People were talking in the darkness that surrounded me and when the whip lashings stopped I could hear them over my ragged breath.

"You must take him, Father, I will not care for him anymore."

"He is your son, regardless of how he was procreated he is still your blood."

"I never wanted to bear children, I was raped in your church! Why don't you believe me…" sobbing ensued.

"I believe you. I know you would not lie nor cast aside your vow to the Lord."

"Just his voice is enough to drive me mad! I can't take it anymore!"

"Hush now, Madeleine, the Lord is your Sheppard and we his flock, you must care for all the Lord's creatures equally."

A recognizable evil laugh resonated, "He is not one of the Lord's creatures…"

The voices faded and I was suddenly kneeling in the dirt getting whipped across the back. I bit my tongue as the whip cracked down over my shoulder.

"Next time when I tell you to take off the mask what are you going to do?"

I stubbornly stayed quiet and the whip fell on me again, much harder.

"What are you going to do?"

I still wouldn't answer. Why wear a mask at all if I was going to show them my horrendous face anyways? Showmanship, apparently.

The whip whistled through the air and cracked over my painfully thin frame so hard that I was flung forward into the dirt. I tried to quickly scramble up but once you go down you are an easy target. Fists and feet hit me from all sides and all the while someone was yelling, 'What are you going to do? What are you going to do?'

Red hot anger coursed through me and instead of answering with the response that would end my beating I screamed out, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!"

Suddenly I was plunged in darkness. I sagged on my bonds momentarily but then wondered why I'd been left shackled to the wall. A door opened and I could hear a woman crying. Golden light passed into the dark that surrounded me and an angel was standing before me in nothing but a lace chemise, her hands cradled protectively around her stomach swollen with child. She reached out to me with a look of terror. Blood ran down her legs and her lashes fluttered and she began to crumple as I thrashed at my bindings.

"LET ME GO!" I screamed as the light around her faded and she disappeared from my view.

"LET ME GOOOO!"

I floated above a grand hall filled with people.

People all around laughed gaily and made polite conversation but one laugh caught my attention. I easily found her, sitting primly on a cushioned chair fanning herself as a circle of young men vied for her attention.

"Tell us another tale, Christine," one man called out.

She closed her fan and tapped it on her knee as she tilted her head engagingly, "You are all insatiable." Her laugh was perfectly polite and her face took on a serious look. "There is one story I've been saving…"

"Tell us!"

"Share it with us."

"Okay, okay," she laughed again. "This story, unlike many others, is based on fact. There was a man who lived among you who had lived through the most horrendous crimes. He was a musician, a scientist, a genius. He had the intelligence to rival any and all of you," her hand swept out as she took in her audience but her eye was caught by something off to the side and she stopped.

"Maman?" a small voice called out.

A young boy stood off to the side near some shadowed curtains. He was dressed for bed and probably was not supposed to be out of his bed but Christine smiled the most radiant smile when she saw him and held out her hand for him to take.

"Are you telling Papa's story?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, dear, come listen," she drew him out with her gentle voice and her beckoning hand.

He slowly came out as if unsure of his reception and as the light curved up his face it revealed his sunken cheek and malformed lips…

I came awake with a gasp and was shaking from head to toe. I rolled out of the unfamiliar bed and crouched on the floor looking wildly around me as my body shook. I took stock as my heart pounded in my ears, my breath coming in short pants. I was in bed with Christine, safe.

My body continued to contract uncontrollably so I crawled haltingly to the window. There were stars in the night sky over Nadir's expansive back gardens but none of it held any comfort for me. I needed air because I felt like I was suffocating.

My hands trembled so terribly that I could barely work the latch. It came free easily enough once I was able to grasp it and I gulped the cold night air as it rushed in.

A son…would I pass my deformity on to my children? What if we had a girl? A pretty little angel, with golden curls like her mother and a face like mine…

NO! I covered my face with my hands and felt ill to my stomach at the thought of another child with half a face.

I heard the bedclothes move and whipped my head around causing it to spin dramatically. I put both hands on the ground as Christine came to me quickly. Her hands skimmed my back and cupped my face so she could look me in the eye. Concern was painted across her moonlit features as my core continued to contract and shake.

"Erik?" she breathed out combing her fingers through my hair worriedly. If this was withdrawals then maybe stopping wasn't such a good idea. These attacks seemed triggered by everything, anger, lust and now even my dreams. How was I supposed to stop them from happening?

Christine wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. Her long braid slid over my back leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

"What's wrong? What can I do?" she whispered on my skin, holding me tightly. "Are you okay? Should I fetch someone?"

"NO!" I clutched at her arm where it crossed my chest not wanting her to leave me. My fingers were like ice against her skin and she shivered at my touch, moving to put more of her body on mine.

"Erik, you're freezing!" her lips brushed my neck, "Come back to bed." She didn't move to let go so I didn't move either. I was too busy feeling the swirl of emotions she wrought through me and the sudden calming of my tremors. My shaking slowed, as if I was only cold and she was warming me. Her love, her touch, it all warmed me from my body to my heart. I didn't need anything or anyone else, just her. But I did need her most desperately.

I began to shiver in anticipation. I would take her to bed and make her mine.

She came to me, held me, helped me, healed me, loved me and I couldn't hold back anything anymore.

I moved to stand wanting to wrap my body around her as quickly as I could and give her everything. She stood with me, her dainty hands on my skin as she worriedly studied my face. I thought she wanted to ask me questions to find out what had happened and what was wrong and how to make things right but she stayed silent.

We moved together in the wee hours of the morning as if we'd done this a hundred times before, sliding back into bed side by side. I couldn't stop staring at her.

She was mine.

"Are you okay, my love?" she whispered as our arms found each other beneath the blankets. "You're so cold…" she slid closer to me, rubbing her sweet curves against me. "Let me warm you," she crooned at my lips and I wanted to break like a dam upon her.

I kissed her desperately, wrapping my arms tightly around her lithe warm figure, pressing her wholly to my body. Her hands swam down my back and I groaned in pleasure.

I was too close to the edge, she must feel the length of my attraction pressing into her stomach, she had to know what I wanted to do to her and still she kissed me back and squirmed to get closer.

Was there was some reason to stop this…

Nadir?

I pulled back and her sweet breath wisped over my face. I gazed down at her and wanted to take solace in her mouth and body, rise above her like the tide and sweep us both away but now was not the time.

"Was it another dream?" she asked sweetly her voice and eyes colored with worry and I felt ashamed. Here she is concerned for my health and well being and all I can think of is fucking her.

I rolled off of her to stare at the dark ceiling, "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Shh," she groped under the blankets for my hand, "No apologies."

We lay in bed, chastely holding hands as I let my ardor cool. I noticed the room was cool as well and glanced up at the window which I'd left open.

I started to sit up and Christine spoke softly, "You can leave it open. I like the fresh air." She rolled closer to me, "And I like to cuddle up to you."

"Is that so," I settled her against me and had to admit it was one of my more favorite activities too.

"Tell me something you like?"

"I like you." She giggled and I had to join her.

"I like to hear you laughing," she said into my chest and the smile suddenly felt entirely too large on my face. How did she have me laughing so easily?

"It never used to happen so often," I traced my hand over the curve of her head and then onto her bare shoulder. "Since I met you though…" I let my hand trace over the skin of her arm and then wrapped my arms around her tightly. "I am much happier," the words were said reverently and her hands squeezed me back.

"Good," she settled into me once more, and we let the silence settle over us like a blanket.

---

Christine

---

Our bodies seemed to know how to fit together and as I lay in his arms I felt changed. I felt so different from the girl I had been. I was no longer just a girl. When I was with Erik, when I was in his arms, I was his woman.

I liked the sound of that.

I smiled as I drifted, maybe I floated on clouds of bliss, maybe I was sleeping or was I flying…

"Angel," a heavenly voice called and my eyes fluttered open. Dark turbulent eyes filled my vision, "Angel, were you sent to save me?"

The sadness in this voice pulled on my heart, "Do you need to be saved?" I sleepily asked the shadow above me.

"Yes," his answer caused a pain in my chest and I reached for him.

"Then I was sent to save you."


	25. DeChangy

---

Erik

---

I paced the room that Berou had prepared for me. It had only been used as a changing room last night and I spared a glance at the bed. It was still meticulously made and I wondered briefly if I should mess it up but that was the least of my problems right now.

Today I was going to the home of one of the more powerful men in Paris. I had some power when it came to my business but no one knew what I looked like. It was only my name that held power, my one name ironically enough. Now though I was opening myself up to criticism and ridicule and if Mr DeChangy desired to, he could spread the news of my deformed face through all of Paris' upper crust. Would I even have a business after today?

If not then Christine and I had no reason to stay here. We would just leave and I could build elsewhere. But then I would have to start everything up again and find all the workers...

Was I ready to do this? Was I ready to face these possibilities?

Face. I turned a quick circle in the middle of the room looking for a mirror or some kind of reflective surface. I sort of wanted to look at my face but when I found no surface that would show it to me I felt relief. Maybe I wasn't quite ready for this...

I began pacing again. I had no choice. Christine needed me and I needed to be a man.

Who cares if they laugh or recoil at my visage? She never did. She said she liked the way I looked. The thought of her made me want to smile and I wondered if she was already up getting ready for the day. I'd wanted to wake with her this morning. I'd wanted to roll over in the morning sunlight and take her in my arms and have her look at me with love in her eyes but after my dream and my shaking attack I hadn't gotten another wink of sleep and as the sun rose so did my anxiety. But until I fled like a child the night had been peaceful.

After my dream I simply lay beside her, watching her sleep, running my fingers over her hair and thinking. Thinking of far too many things and probably not the most important things to be thinking of either. Foremost on my mind were my dreams. I hated my dreams because they messed with my head. They were so vivid that I wasn't always sure whether the dreams were replaying memories from my past or making things up. It also disturbed me that I dreamt of Christine. She had no place in the dark recesses of my mind.

I rubbed my hands over my face briskly and still was amazed that I'd chosen to leave the mask with Christine. I figured Mr DeChangy would be more receptive if I appeared before him bare faced. Masked men were usually not to be trusted.

I turned and spied my business suit that I'd laid out last night before bringing Christine's things to her. I suppose I should get ready. Nadir would expect to leave after breakfast.

---

Christine

---

When I woke in the morning sun, I was alone. Last night felt almost dreamlike but I knew it wasn't because a single red rose lay on the second pillow.

I rolled over and picked it up. It smelled divine as I touched the velvety soft petals to my face. I stretched languidly, full of so many good feelings and then I remembered what was happening today.

I tossed the blankets aside and rose from bed. Erik's cloak and discarded gloves and ascot were gone but his mask had been left sitting on the window sill. My heart sped for him. He was trying to change himself for me; he was trying to accept himself. I was so proud and so full of love for him that my throat tightened.

I lifted the mask from its perch and turned it over in my hands. It looked to be finely made, the inside molded to the contours of his face. I held it up to my face and looked out the eye hole. It was a strange way to view the world and I turned around to look at the room as Erik would have seen it last night. I sighed and dropped my hand. How could he stand wearing this thing? It was probably terribly hot and I knew it rubbed his skin raw in some places. But I also knew wearing the mask made him feel safer. He did always seem to be more calm and controlled when he had it on. When he took it off he was quicker to anger and more wild and out of control. A smile curled my lips. Not that I minded when he lost control of himself.

Rapid knocking at my door startled me and I dropped the mask as Molly called from the hallway.

"Time to wake up, Mlle Daae. I've come to help you wash and dress."

I'd never had a handmaid before. I couldn't even call out to her to let her know I was up so I quickly opened the bag Erik brought for me and pulled out the white wrapper that was sitting on top. I didn't want to answer the door in only my chemise. As an afterthought I dropped Erik's mask into my bag. Molly seemed very frightened of Erik.

I opened the door tentatively and Molly stood there with a large tray stacked with towels, bottles and an ewer of steaming water.

"Good morning, Mlle," she bobbed her head at me. "I know you can not speak so early," she bustled in past me, balancing the tray expertly and moving quickly to the powder table where she began to lay everything out. "Come sit dear, we will set your hair first."

I obeyed her because there was no way to argue and I didn't see a reason to anyway. She handed me a small hot wet face towel instructing me to wash my face and then she started pulling out my braid as she kept a stream of words going, like she needed to make up for the fact that I couldn't speak.

"You have lovely hair and you take good care of it too by braiding it at night. I hope you slept well. Being in a new place always makes sleep hard for me. Today has turned out to be a beautiful morning, perhaps later I can show you the gardens out back, they are quite nice in the summer but even now they have a natural beauty to them without the flowers. I heard you singing last night. You sound more like a soprano then the dancer the newspaper claims you are. You are very pretty. If you are a dancer you should change profession. You would bring more patrons if you were the lead soprano." She wrapped a large damp hot towel around my head and wiped her hands on her apron. "Let that sit for a few minutes and your hair will look wonderful." She glanced around the room and spied my bag. "Let me hang your clothes for you." She bustled towards the bag and I stood, panicked that seeing Erik's mask would scare her.

It did. She dropped the clothing that she'd been pulling out and turned to me with a look of horror on her face.

"Why are you consorting with that man? Has he kidnapped you? Is he forcing you to be with him?"

Even if I could speak I had no clue what to say, my mouth hung open. Molly hurried to me and grabbed my arms.

"Can you not feel how evil he is?" she shook me slightly and I had to speak.

"He's not evil!"

"Of course he is!" she looked terrified. "He draws you in and will suck out your soul if you do not protect yourself!"

"What?" I was astounded by her words. "Erik is..." she shushed me dramatically and then looked to the door like it was going to fly open.

"Do not speak the name of the devil or the devil will appear." Anger filled me.

"Erik is not the devil!"

"He has powers that no mortal man should possess. If he is not the devil then he has dealt with him."

I wanted to defend him more but I could see anything I said to this crazy woman would be refuted. I glared at her angrily and she bowed her head.

"Nadir has some sway with him, I do not know why but if you need help please trust Nadir. He can save you."

"I don't need to be saved." As the words left my mouth a memory of last night stirred and I recalled my shadowy angel asking if I had been sent to save him. Would a good man need to be saved?

"I am sorry for upsetting you. I will not speak of this anymore. Sit down, I will see to your hair."

I didn't want to sit. I wanted to demand she leave my room for saying such things about Erik but my insides were in turmoil. I suddenly couldn't remember the last time I had prayed and sank back down into the seat staring at my troubled reflection in the mirror.

She took off the cooling towel and my hair tumbled out. She rubbed oil on her hands and began twirling individual curls through her fingers. When she was done with that she started pinning the sides up and left the rest to sprawl down my back. I searched my face in the mirror and wondered why I hadn't been praying anymore. Usually I prayed all the time and especially since Papa died but lately I'd been so wrapped up in Erik that I didn't think of anything else. Was that wrong? Was it truly evil?

Molly seemed to be finished and she began putting everything back on the tray.

"You seem like a nice sweet girl," she said quietly. "I do not want to see you hurt. I am afraid that man will hurt you. Maybe he is not the devil but he is not good. I'm sorry," and she bustled out much the way she'd bustled in and I was left flabbergasted.

Erik had told me he was evil and I argued with him. Was he truly a dark minion and I had been drawn in like an innocent victim? I knew I had sinned terribly with him but it hadn't felt wrong at all. Everything had felt marvelous and beautiful and right somehow.

With an uneasy stomach and worried mind I dressed for the day, putting on a gold colored skirt and an embroidered corseted blouse. I checked my reflection before I left my room and thought I looked very womanly and grown up.

Nadir was sitting at the table reading a newspaper and I wondered if my name was in it.

"Good morning," I said quietly so as not to startle him. He looked up with a warm smile and folded the paper to put it aside.

"Good morning, Mlle Daae."

"Please call me Christine," I smiled back at him as I sat down to his right where I sat last night for dinner.

"Christine, do forgive me for my indelicacy last night, that was bad mannered of me. I'm afraid Erik and I do not mince our words around each other and it was very rude of me to speak thusly around you." He looked genuinely chagrined and I shook my head with a smile.

"It was fine, you are both only looking out for me."

"Still, it was very impolite to be so blunt with my words."

"Apology accepted."

"And I wanted you to know that I meant what I said. I will help you however I can."

"You already are," I answered easily as I poured myself some tea.

"Don't hesitate to ask me for anything."

"If I can think of anything, I will ask you," I assured him.

"I also wish to point out that though Erik may be quick to anger, he would never harm you."

"I know." I was too surprised to say anything else.

"He is…" Nadir's brow furrowed as he tried to find words. "He is a very dear friend to me and I hope you, as well, will consider me your friend."

Before I could answer Erik breezed in smoothly and my attention was stripped from Nadir. I was so completely in love with him that I smiled vapidly as he approached the table and pulled out his chair. His eyes were all for me and he looked dangerous.

"Good morning, ma chardonnerette," his voice embraced me with warmth.

"Good morning, Erik," my reply was somewhat breathless as I resisted the urge to rise from my seat and run into his arms.

"Morning," Nadir's voice invaded our private moment. "You look remarkably well for a man who hasn't slept in almost a week."

Erik collapsed into his chair easily, "Do not overly concern yourself Nadir, I managed to close my eyes for a few minutes." Erik turned his attention back to me and he had a definite sparkle in his eye. "You look stunning, my dear." He held my gaze with his piercing grey eyes and I scrambled for the proper thing to say.

"Oh," came from my lips and I blushed and looked down. Is this what Molly meant by drawing me in? Was this level of attraction not normal? Was it evil?

Berou came in with a tray of sliced fruit and Erik went as still as a statue. He was waiting for a reaction but Berou set everything down and left without a word. Erik visibly exhaled and Nadir leaned forward.

"Berou does not hate you." Erik let out a dismissive angry sound.

"He does, as does everyone else." His pain was hidden away behind his anger and it tore at parts of me to see him this way.

"I do not." I said it quietly but Erik heard and his eyes snapped to mine.

"I did not mean anyone currently in this room." He said by way of apology. I smiled and stood.

"Would you like coffee or tea?"

"You needn't serve me," he whispered it and I picked up the coffee.

"But I like to." I walked to his seat and poured him a cup of coffee. Erik's eyes followed my every movement and I touched him gently on the arm. His lush black lashes dropped sort of bashfully and he started to smile that tiny curl of his lips that always filled me with such joy.

"How do you always manage to make me smile?" the tone of his voice disbelieving but happy too.

"Because she loves you, Erik," Nadir sounded ambivalent to that and I wondered if he approved of our relationship. I blushed deeply. My father would not have approved of our immoral relationship.

I returned the coffee to the table and returned to my seat to finish my breakfast of toast and fruit as the men discussed today and I argued with myself in my head. I couldn't forget Molly's words but I also could not believe them. The man I loved was not evil.

As we rose from the table Erik asked if I could write a letter to Mr DeChangy.

"What do I need to say?"

"Whatever you want it to say?" we paused in the hall and Nadir parted from us to see to the readiness of the carriage. Erik ushered me down a hallway to the office so I could write the letter.

"You know Mr DeChangy better than I, so write whatever you feel you should. Tell him on the paper what you would say in person if you could." I looked around the office, all polished wood and business-like books and binders and then turned back towards Erik.

"After you meet him today you'll know him just as well as I," it seemed silly to me that my fate was in the hands of a stranger. I met Erik's piercing gaze and awareness hummed through me. We were alone for the moment and I was suddenly excitedly nervous.

"Thank you for the rose," I spoke down to the floor, embarrassed that I wanted to leap into his arms again. I could barely resist the urge.

"Christine," his voice was raw and faltered with his desire for me, his voice urged me to follow my sinful needs, and I couldn't deny them. I looked up shyly and his hand uncurled to me. I moved quickly into his embrace with no more will to fight. Why would I ever want to fight something that felt so good?

---

Erik

---

I spoke her name and watched emotions flicker over her face. As I uncurled my hand towards her she quickly moved into my arms, pressing her cheek to my chest. I held her hard, my desire coursing through me as my hands delved into her hair. Her curls were so lush and cheerful this morning, perfect silky light catching ringlets. Her choice in clothing, an off-white blouse with intricate embroidery around the waist and a gold skirt, made her appear to glow with a golden light. I wanted to bathe in that light, roll around in it and let it fill me to the brim.

I cupped the back of her head and bent to her neck to lay not so gentle kisses up her neck. She giggled breathily, clutching at my arms.

"Erik..." she sighed out and it was my new favorite sound, hearing her say my name, breathless and happy. I pulled back enough so I could see her sparkling golden eyes and then I set my lips on hers.

I almost groaned at the taste of her. How could she taste so good all the time? My hands couldn't stay still and they roved over her back and into her curls, playing and tangling as hers tightened in my hair.

I wanted her so desperately. When I'd walked into the dining room, it had taken all my control to not march over to her and lift her from her seat into my arms. When she was with me I was at peace. When she was in my arms she balmed my nerves, soothed my tremors and healed my heart. She was beautiful, intelligent and charming and her innocence was so fresh and her eagerness for me so intoxicating and she tasted so good...

I lost myself in her kiss. I could probably kiss her forever. Her dainty hands roamed restlessly over my shoulders and neck, through my hair, over my face and onto my back with eager innocence. When I kissed her, time did not exist, nothing existed except for me and her. It could have been one minute when I finally pulled back, which I highly doubt, or it could have been more like ten minutes, which was far more likely.

Christine's mouth was parted and pink and panting lightly, her eyes fluttering open and starting to focus. I felt like such a man with her in my arms. My touch, my kiss gave her pleasure.

"I suppose we should get to business," I couldn't help the genuine regret as I twirled a few curls through my fingers. I wanted to just forget all this responsibility. Couldn't I just take her to my underground home and never return? Just stay below and make love to her day and night, cherish each hair on her head and bathe in her sunshine.

"Yes, of course," it didn't look like she knew what I was talking about and a smile twitched my lips. Did I kiss the sense right out of her?

"The letter?" I pointed to the desk where paper and ink sat waiting and her hand came up to her mouth.

"Oh," she turned away, flushing pink. "Yes, of course," she said again.

I sat in one of the armchairs as she settled at the desk. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by staring but I could think of nothing better to do. My eyes loved to gaze at every aspect of my angel. She sat perfectly poised in her chair, her back straight and her head tilted as she penned a few words. My eyes wandered down her body, critiquing each part, trying to see why she would say she isn't pretty. Ridiculous. She was absolutely perfect, her hair, her golden halo, her skin, rosy and smooth, her chest, perfectly sized, her waist, didn't need a corset, her backside, mmm...

I felt like I was compiling a checklist of her perfection in my head and stopped. How could I be critiquing her when she accepts me with this body and face? Terrible. I looked down and let her finish writing without my critical gaze.

When she was finished a few minutes later she asked me to read it so I leaned over her seated frame to look at the page over her shoulder.

_Dear Mr DeChangy,__  
_

_I regret to inform you that I did not board the train you bought me a ticket for. I can better appreciate now, the logic behind your actions but I still cannot bear the thought of being home without Papa. I assume you knew my father well but unfortunately he told me nothing about you and your family. He also told me nothing of an engagement. _

_I'm very sorry for the trouble my actions have caused and I am sorry that I am not there to see you today. __  
_

_If you have any questions about my health or anything else for that matter you may ask Erik Karan. Him and his father have been exceedingly kind to me and made me comfortable in their home. In the few days I've been here I've grown quite fond of Erik and truly hope this sudden engagement announcement was a misprint.__  
_

_Until we meet again__  
_

_Christine Daae_

Warmth filled me at her innocent words. She was so open with her heart. Shouldn't she hide her feelings? Secret them away inside for only the two of us to see?

My throat tightened as I realized everyone in this house knew she loved me by her own admission. I coughed a little.

"I've never seen my name like that," I said lamely, focusing on the other part of her letter that caught my eye.

"They fit nicely together," she commented and then half turned to look up at me. "Do you think it's too honest, too casual? I'm not sure I did it right," she bit her lip and looked back at the paper.

"Do not fret, my sweet. It will be fine." I touched her chin lightly and her golden eyes rose to mine. The calm, beautiful rich golden iris of her eye drew me in and I cupped her face in my hands. My world, had always been a small place. Lately I'd been shrinking into myself, my world getting smaller and smaller until I only moved in the same circles over and over again. Now my world was no bigger than this woman. Everything had narrowed to her. She was all that was important. Even I ranked under her now.

"You will be mine," I had no ring yet but I would give her words for now.

"Yes," she nodded seriously and I suddenly felt protected, sheltered, accepted, and loved just from one small word. I sank to my knees in front of her, part shakiness and part humbled, and her eyes widened dramatically.

She may be mine but I was hers more completely. I took her hands in mine as I realized my heart was no longer mine to hold. I'd given it to her last night. I had found the courage to leap off the edge into her sunny embrace. I would do anything she wanted me to. Anything. If she said stay away from me, I would try my hardest. But truly, I only wanted her by my side.

I would love her for the rest of my life. Would she love me for the rest of hers, or at least for the rest of mine? I looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you," she inched closer to me, her eyes bottomless as the ocean. I said the first thing that came to my mouth.

"I need you," and then slowly, too slowly, I stretched up to her lips and we shared a sweet innocent kiss. It was only the press of our lips, our fingers entwined but it sang through me with the promise of our future. This had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love.

"Ahem!" Nadir cleared his throat loudly and I stood quickly. "Are we ready to go, Erik?"

"Yes, of course," I said rather more loudly than necessary. I bent over Christine, sweeping my hand down her rosy cheek. "Berou and Molly will help you with anything you need," anger passed over her face and I twitched at the sight of it.

"What is it?" it was rare to see my angel angry.

"It's nothing, Erik." She folded the letter and handed it to me, rising to leave with us. I didn't move back for her and my eyes narrowed. She glanced at Nadir and then waved her hand, "It's nothing important, I can tell you later." She rose on her tip toes and her lips brushed my cheek. "Take care," she breathed out and then whipped around with a polite nod to Nadir and was gone out the door.

"Do you have the letter?" Nadir asked innocently to break the silence even though he could see it in my hand. I waved it lamely and then tucked it away into an inside pocket and if my eyes were not deceiving me Nadir looked to have a smirk on his face.

"Does something amuse you?" I asked petulantly as we left the room. He had seen us kissing twice now, or was it three times, almost four. Perhaps we should leave our love in the bedroom but right now I wondered if I had done something wrong. It looked like he wanted to laugh and he did have far more experience than I. Christine and I were both unpracticed in the art of love and if I was doing it wrong I wanted him to tell me even though what I was doing seemed to please Christine.

He clapped me on the back and the smile broke over his face.

"I am happy today, Erik, quite happy."

---

Christine

---

I watched Erik and Nadir get into the carriage from the upper floor and then it pulled away, jerking into motion with the driver shaking the reins. I was so glad I didn't have to go with them. I watched until the carriage was no longer visible and still I sat there staring out the window.

Engaged to Raoul. The thought made me want to gag. What would Meg and her mother think? Would Mr DeChangy be willing to let me stay with Nadir and Erik or would he feel it necessary to come take me home with him? Would I have to live with Raoul in the house? I shuddered. Would I be allowed to continue dancing? Would my singing lessons end? Would the life I had been living until now be over and a new life beginning? Why would Molly say those awful things about Erik? Had he done something to her to make her so frightened or was she prejudiced?

Everything in my life was so chaotic when Erik wasn't around me. It was as if when he was near me I focused on him and he kept me sane. But when he was gone, everything extraneous swirled back in and I was fumbling trying to make sense of it all.

He said he needed me but I needed him far more. Without him I would have grieved myself into the grave. The thought of Papa sent heat flushing up my face. Did he honestly think I would want to marry Raoul just so I wouldn't be alone? Did he not hear me when I said the boy made me nervous?

'He merely wished to see you cared for' Erik's words reminded me and I felt dreadful. What kind of terrible daughter would question her father's dying wish to see her cared for? What kind of terrible daughter would also continue to forget her dead father? What kind of terrible person had I become?

I dropped my face into my hands and cried.

---

Erik

---

"Let's not reveal Christine's attacker unless absolutely necessary," I doubted any father would take kindly to a revelation of that sort.

"Agreed," Nadir glanced out the curtain at the fountain we rounded out front of the house. "As your father, you should allow me to do the majority of the talking. You can always intercede."

"Agreed." I trusted Nadir's abilities. His police work often left him arguing and speaking out for justice or punishment. Besides, I felt very naked at the moment and my stomach was twisting nervously. What are you doing here without face covering?

The carriage came to a stop and I could hear Gil climbing down from his perch to open the door. I clapped the hat on my head and took a deep breath.

"Erik?" Nadir sounded hesitant and I looked over my shoulder at him as the door opened. "If this does not go well, we will walk out and I will help you and Christine get out of Paris."

My mouth fell open in shock and then I regained my senses. "You would do that?"

He smiled softly at me, "She loves you and she seems to make you very happy. That has always been important to me. Of course I would do that."

"Thank you," I swallowed with difficulty, forgetting to dismount the carriage.

"Okay, let's go then. Hop out." I descended gracefully and turned to wait for Nadir. He did not bring his cane, not that I was surprised, so I knew I'd probably end up helping him. I just hated seeing him limp.

His knee buckled strangely as he came down and I reached for his arm. His smile was replaced by a look of disgust and he started grumbling about his damn knees and getting older and what not and I patted him reassuringly and murmured, "Don't worry, I'll help you, father." It came out of my mouth so easily and Nadir started slightly and the smile came back.

"Thank you, Erik."

We ascended the stairs to the massive wood door and I turned sideways to hide my face from the help. There was no reason for everyone to see me, only those who were important. The help was not on that list.

We knocked and waited silently and I wondered how I'd even ended up here at all. With or without the mask, Christine had given me the courage to do this. Her love had made me stronger; her love made me more than I was.

The door swung open and the butler greeted us.

"Bonjour?"

Nadir nodded and explained we were here to see Mr DeChangy regarding a private matter. We were admitted and the butler helped Nadir out of his jacket as I removed my cloak and hat. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced to my left only to look directly at myself in a large, large mirror.

The first thing I noticed was how tall and slim I was compared to the other two reflections but my face was reflected back at me in all its spectacular glory. Reddish, purple, mottled, sunken, jagged, torn, hollow of flesh from my eye to my jaw, barely missing my nose and ear, four furrows curved through the mess. It was ugly, horrid, freakish, a nightmare!

I turned away quickly, fisting my hands. The butler had his back to us and I wanted to run out the door but Nadir was looking right at me and for some reason had no horror on his face. But I was a freak! A nightmarish figure of the dark! I didn't belong here! What was I doing here?

"I may need some help, Erik, I seem to have left my cane again." Nadir reached a hand towards me and I stared at him hard trying not to pant in my urge to flight. He was trying to keep me in check because the butler was right there and I didn't think he'd noticed my face yet. It would be better if he didn't. All these things raced through my head in a split second and I moved to Nadir's side, positioning myself to keep my face turned.

"Follow me, Gentlemen," he stepped quickly down the hall and Nadir leaned heavily on my arm.

"Forgive me," he said quietly, "My knee is paining me…" he trailed off. He hated bringing up his injuries and I took his weight effortlessly. I wasn't sure if he was trying to distract me or if he really needed my help, I guess it didn't matter.

"I'm glad to help," I replied. Usually I would give a flip comment about his age or using his cane but I was a little bit lost in my mind. Seeing my image in a mirror had thrown me off considerably. How could anyone stand to look at it?

Thankfully the butler stood to my good side as we walked into the office or was it only a sitting room, I didn't really care.

"The master of the house will be with you shortly," and he bowed sharply and left. I glanced around the room and there were mirrors everywhere. I took a deep breath as I helped Nadir to a chair. He rubbed his knee with a grimace and breathing was beginning to get difficult for me. I moved to the window and looked out over their gardens.

Too manicured, I thought. Not wanting to turn around and catch another glimpse of myself I continued to critique their garden until I caught a faint outline of my face in the window and turned away with my eyes cast down.

What are you doing here, Erik?

Christine. Think of Christine.

I patted my jacket where the boot knife and letter sat waiting to be exposed. This would go smoothly. Think of Christine. Not only does she look at you but she kisses you like your face is whole. Think of that. Think of her.

We waited a good fifteen minutes before Mr. DeChangy showed.

"Gentlemen," he came in smiling and I was careful to stand sideways for now. "You are Nadir Karan, are you not?"

Nadir nodded and Mr. DeChangy continued, "Your company builds marvelous homes." My ears perked. Those were my creations he was talking about.

"I am actually only the figurehead. My son does all the designs and oversees the building."

"Remarkable, he must be very skilled." I felt warm and good. Christine loved me, my work was being praised...

"Your servant can wait in the hall if you wish to discuss something privately." I almost looked around. Did he mean me? I guess I did look like one. Dressed in my customary black, helping him down the hall and standing way over here instead of behind him or off to the side like a son should.

"Forgive me, this is not my servant," Nadir gestured his hand, "This is my son, Erik." Warmth and goodness flooded me and I stared at Nadir as he smiled proudly. He made a movement with his head like I was forgetting something. OH!

I turned and bowed respectably towards Mr. DeChangy, "Monsieur." When I straightened he was looking right at me and I watched his face pale at my deformity.

"I was not aware you...actually had any children," his voice was slightly choked but he was doing a good job of hiding his shock and I thought I could like him if he hadn't sired such scum for a son. "You are Erik?"

"Yes," I bowed my head, humbled by his earlier praise.

"Why has no one heard mention that you are so young?"

"Erik does not leave the estate very often and does not meet very many people. I assume you've heard of the mystery surrounding our business." Mr. DeChangy looked from Nadir to me and then back.

"I assumed it was merely to garner more business but I see now…" he trailed off and then checked his watch. He sat quickly in the chair opposite Nadir. "Now, I have a prior appointment to attend, what business have you come to speak to me about."

I moved to Nadir's side and joined them in the chairs. Let it begin.

"This is regarding Christine Daae."

Mr. DeChangy sat up, gripping the arms of the chair, "Have you found her? Is she safe? Please tell me she isn't dead!"

"No! Monsieur, please, she is quite well."

He sagged in relief, "Thank the lord." I was glad to see he cared so much for Christine.

"My carriage almost ran her over Thursday night. She's been staying with me since then and we only saw the paper about her missing status on Sunday. She says she isn't missing…"

Nadir's words faded as I thought of my sweet angel. She was probably sitting in the garden right now or maybe playing the piano. I was surprised at her piano skills. She had a very nice touch on the keys, almost as nice as when she touched me. Maybe it was her gentleness…

"Naturally when we saw she was engaged we had to contact you. Only she says she does not recall ever being proposed to." This explanation I wanted to hear.

Mr. DeChangy sighed, "I'm afraid my son falsified that part. Raoul witnessed her attack and chased her attacker away but Christine was terribly frightened and ran away blindly. He searched for her for hours and feared for her safety. He put out the advertisements to try to find her as quickly as possible." He gestured lamely, "I didn't even know she was still in Paris until Saturday night. I don't know what I'm going to do with her."

Nadir cleared his throat, "As to that, I think we can help you. Erik has become quite fond of Mlle Daae. It is rare for anyone to not be frightened by his face and she is not at all. I've noticed the way that Christine looks at my son and I believe she may be falling in love with him."

Mr. DeChangy looked at me again, as if to appraise me, almost as if he could not believe anyone could love me. "She has been quite sheltered all her life but brought up very well. May I ask though, why Christine did not come with you? Does she bear injuries?"

Nadir began to answer but I suddenly wanted to speak for my lady. "Her innocence and her trust in people bore the brunt of her injury."

Mr. DeChangy's eyes focused on me like Nadir was not even in the room, "Her sheltered life has left her naïve of many things. She should never have been left alone in this city."

"She trusted the wrong person was her only fault. Most people would never think to assault an angel like her." Mr. DeChangy studied me for a moment and then leaned forward.

"If you don't mind the off topic question, could you tell me what happened to your face?"

"I was born this way." I hoped that was good enough but his eyes stayed on me.

"Your voice is also quite unique…" he was studying me carefully and I felt like a specimen under a microscope. I wished I'd just kept my mouth shut.

"As I said," Nadir interrupted, "Erik, does not meet very many people for quite a few reasons."

Mr. DeChangy stippled his fingers and leaned back contemplating me with a keen look in his eye. "Do you wish to take Christine as your wife?" Well he was blunt about it but I knew my answer for that question.

"Yes." He nodded slowly and his eyes narrowed. I thought he was going to ask me a difficult question but the door opened and a dashing young man sauntered in. I knew it was Raoul because in my chest, I instantly hated him.

"Father, I thought we were going to go look at horses." Even his voice was whinny, a spoiled little rich boy.

"Raoul, we have guests," Mr. DeChangy's voice was sharp, like he knew his son was spoiled and it was too late to change it. "This is Nadir Karan and his son Erik." Raoul nodded at Nadir and then almost fell backwards when he looked at me, bumping into a small table behind him.

"Good Lord Man!" he burst out, "What happened to the rest of your face?"

I wanted to tear him limb from limb, strangle him, punch him in his pretty little nose, break up his pretty perfect blond blue-eyed boyish face…

"I was born this way," I said through clenched teeth as I pretended my ass was glued to my seat.

"Holy Mary, it's terrible!" he started to come closer as if to get a better look and a little dark voice in my head was chanting, yes, yes, come closer so I can wrap my hands around your neck…

"Raoul!" Mr. DeChangy barked, "Mind your manners, these men found Christine and…"

"My Christine," he turned excitedly, "Where is she?"

My Christine...

I blinked stupidly.

My Christine...

My blood boiled. She was MY Christine!

"I was about to ask them the same thing," they both looked at us expectantly and Nadir began.

"That is a tad complicated…" I couldn't stand it. I wanted everything out in the open. Little filth of a gentleman, didn't even come clean about his role in Christine's attack. Anger seethed through me. 'My Christine' he sounded so excited when he said it and I wanted to rip his throat out so he would never say those words again.

"She was too frightened to come here." My voice dominated over Nadir's and all three men looked at me startled. I knew that rage was blinding me to the right course of action, stay calm and cool and things will go better but I had relied on anger and rage for so long that they came to me quickly and easily and I stared Raoul down. My eyes bored into him with all the anger I felt towards him and I thought he was going to soil himself.

That's right piss ant, I know.

I could see him realize I knew the truth and I wanted to laugh at the expression on his face but that probably would have scared Mr. DeChangy.

"F-father," Raoul grabbed at his daddy's sleeve, "I need to have a word with you right now!"

"Raoul, for heaven's…"

"NOW Father!" and he walked out into the hall, expecting him to follow. Such blatant disrespect and no manners what so ever, he was more disgusting then I thought possible.

"Forgive me Messieurs. I will be right back."

When the door was shut I leapt up and pulled out my ear piece. I hastened to the door to eavesdrop, pressing the small cone to the wood and the other end to my ear.

"Erik," Nadir hissed at me disapprovingly and I shook my head at him. I wanted to hear this. Would he come clean or would he try to lie again?

Mr. DeChangy was talking, "…unforgivably rude…embarrassment…obsessed with her…" Raoul was saying something. I closed my eyes to concentrate and moved the cone to a better spot.

"Do not trust them, Father, they will tell you lies to keep Christine away. Maybe they don't even have her! Maybe they want money!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Mr. Karan is a well known businessman. They have no need of our money, did you not notice their clothing. For heaven's sake boy!" exasperation was clear in his tone.

"But the one with the face. Such a man can not be trusted. Maybe the claw marks in his cheek are from Christine…"

"Not another word!"

I straightened from the door. I'd heard enough to know he wasn't coming clean. Nadir was looking at me expectantly and I started to laugh.

"You approve then?" I asked cockily, knowing I still had the upper hand over the little boy.

"Just tell me," he whispered.

"He is trying to sell my guilt to his father but Monsieur is not buying." If those were nail marks in my cheek they would not have healed by now if they were from Christine. I suddenly remembered my dream and touched my face as I sat back down. Was that actually a memory?

"What do we do now?" Nadir brought me back to the present.

"We tell them what we know." I wanted to hurt Raoul however I could.

"Do you think he will believe us over his son?" Nadir was skeptical.

"I have proof." I whispered seconds before they re-emerged.

"Forgive us," Mr. DeChangy was flushed and Raoul trailed in behind him looking freshly rebuked. "You were saying she was frightened? Why would she be scared to see me?"

I looked at Nadir and he looked mad at me. Probably because I didn't tell him about my proof and he had no idea what I had as proof and didn't know how to proceed. I gestured for him to talk because if I opened my mouth I was afraid I would yell. Seeing Raoul in flesh and blood made anger course through me violently and I counted all the multitude of ways I could end his life. It wouldn't do for me to pull out his knife only to stab him with it.

"It is not you she fears. As you are aware, Christine was assaulted Thursday evening." Nadir began slowly, "She knew her attacker and thought he would not harm her." He glanced at me for confirmation that it was time to reveal this. "I'm afraid, Mr. DeChangy that it was your son Raoul who attacked her."

His face was shocked and he looked at his son with that sharp eye of his. Raoul looked scared.

"See, I told you, Father. They will lie to you and try to…"

"I have proof." My voice whisked softly through the room and everyone's eyes were on me again. Was I really getting used to that?

"He's lying!" Raoul attempted to sway his father but Mr. DeChangy waved his hand at him and waited patiently for me to reveal my proof. I stood slowly, talking in my head about staying calm and not competing with the childish volume Raoul had reached.

"I regret that it has come to this, Monsieur." I pulled out the boot knife and laid it on the carved table between us. They both stared down at it. "Christine had it in her hand when we found her and she recalls taking it from her attacker's boot and cutting him here," I pointed to the left side of my waist, "To get away." I let what I said sink into the silence and then Mr. DeChangy stood and turned towards his son with a look of stone on his face.

"Fell in the stables?" his voice was quietly measured and Raoul's mouth opened and closed comically. "I will speak with you later but for now I want you out of my sight."

"I d-dropped it when…"

"LEAVE!" Mr. DeChangy's face mottled with color and then he turned his back on his son, just like that. "Gentlemen, allow me to apologize on my son's behalf and extend that apology ten fold to Christine." Nadir graciously accepted Mr. DeChangy's apology and I watched Raoul skulk from the room. He turned at the door and I sneered at him. I wasn't even thinking of my face, I felt powerful as I stared him down and he looked away and hurried out the door.

---

Christine

---

The morning stretched on forever as I wallowed in my misery. I was a horrible daughter and a horrible Christian and no matter how much I now prayed I felt like it was in vain. I didn't regret anything I'd done with Erik and that meant that I could not be forgiven for it. I was a terrible sinner and the lord would not forgive me my misdeeds unless I repented. But I wouldn't. I couldn't. I had enjoyed myself in Erik's arms far too much and the lord would know if I lied to him.

Berou and Molly tried to coax me to eat some lunch but I declined. I was angry at Molly for shattering my peace and opening my eyes to my sin. I went out into the gardens to explore and try to find that peace inside me again. The garden was dull and boring where last night with Erik it had been vibrant and lush. The day was nice but it was the end of November; cold with winter breathing down upon us. I just wanted to lay down somewhere and forget all of this confusion for a few minutes.

I used the double doors in the conservatory to enter the house and found it very warm inside. I shrugged out of my jacket and curled up on one of the benches by the large windows. I snuggled under my jacket and laid my head, gazing out the window. I was so tired and felt like nothing really mattered anymore unless Erik was around. My life was on hold until he was in front of me again. But once he was in front of me I wouldn't be able to think of anything else but him. But I never wanted to think of anything but him.

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands and began to pray again.

---

Erik

---

"I'm exhausted." Nadir slumped down against the seat, "Too much excitement in this old man's life."

"Too much excitement in mine, by far," I spoke softly not really to him. I was in a state of awe. Mr. DeChangy had been nice to me, shocked but kind. He shook my hand, thanked me for the letter and said he wanted to talk to Christine before deciding if she could marry me but all in all the morning went very well. I even got to knock Raoul off his perfect little perch.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the seat awash with such emotions that my chest was tight. Mr. DeChangy would come tonight to speak to Christine and she would tell him her choice and I would marry her. So easy…

Just one more thing to finalize…

"I have something to ask of you," I spoke without moving or opening my eyes and I didn't hear him move either. He made an acceding noise and I blundered on. "May I ask Christine to marry me?"

He moved now, "You do not need my permission, Erik! How many times do I have to tell you, you are not my servant anymore?"

"I feel it's necessary I ask since I can not very well just give her your surname as you've given it to me!" Could I? I pressed my lips together waiting an eternity for his answer.

He took a breath, "Allah has been so kind to give me another son and now a daughter as well." My mouth was dry.

"Truly?"

"You have my blessing," he settled back into the cushioned seat, and closed his eyes again. "I thought you already asked her this morning before we left." I remembered falling to my knees and Christine's wide eyes. Did she think I was going to propose and I hadn't?

"Hrrumph," was my response as I pondered. I could fix that tonight after Mr. DeChangy had his visit with Christine. The idea grew in my head and as we passed through a certain part of Paris on our way back to Nadir's I realized where we were.

"Stop!" I called out and heard the horses whinny as they were tugged upon. "I'll just be a few minutes," I assured Nadir as I hopped from the carriage.

"Erik!" he sounded alarmed but I was already on my way to buy her a ring. I was also walking in broad daylight with no mask on my face. The things this woman could make me do were astounding. My hat was pulled down over my forehead and unless someone really wanted to see, they could see very little. I reached the jewelry store without being accosted and was glad to see it was empty but for the clerk. I turned the sign on the door to say they were closed and it caught the clerk's attention.

"I beg your pardon sir," he wasn't scared, just annoyed but I knew I could scare him. I turned and removed my hat and watched the blood drain from his face. Hmmm, two in one day...

"I prefer a private session."

"Of of c-course sir." He stammered and blundered far more than I'm sure he usually did but I was polite to him and in the end I left with a ring and he had a large sum of cash in his hand. It was a good thing I always kept emergency money tucked away in my cloak. I highly doubt he would have taken me on credit.

"Come again any time sir." Money always had a heartening effect on people.

When I climbed back into the carriage no more then twenty minutes later Nadir gave me a once over looking highly irritated.

"Do I get an explanation?"

I sheepishly held up the ring box, "I needed a ring." He blinked at me, his face blank and then he burst into laughter.

"Oh dear me, oh, goodness Erik," I watched him laugh himself back into a good mood as we carried on home.

Home. An actual home where there were people who actually cared about me, who didn't care what I looked like. It was amazing what love can do to a man, especially a man like myself. Suddenly everything around me was brighter and happier and so was I.

Berou met us at the door and I was eager to see Christine. "Where is Mlle Daae?" I asked as I whisked off my hat and cloak and hung them neatly. Berou never tended to my clothes. I figured he was just jealous because when I was around Nadir didn't need him.

"I do not know. She refused to eat lunch and went out to the garden over an hour ago."

Anger flared at his lack of concern and I knew it was because of me. "And you didn't think to check on her?" resentment dripped from my tongue as I glared.

He still would not look at me as he helped Nadir with his jacket, "No."

Coward, I sneered inwardly and walked briskly down the hall into the conservatory. I threw open the double doors and felt the cold wind hit me. She's been out here over an hour?

"Christine?" I called out feeling panic mount in my breast and I stepped down onto the flagstone and called again. "Christine?"

"Erik," the wind breezed behind me and I whipped around. She was on one of the benches in the corner under her jacket and the relief that washed through me shook me down to my toes. I almost ran to her side as she tried to wake herself, her hair rumpled on one side. "Is something wrong? Do we have to run away?" she half sat up, bleary eyed and I wrapped her in my arms.

"No, no everything is fine," I held her against my pounding heart and she hugged me back but her hands came to my chest as if to help slow the racing of my pulse.

"What's wrong?"

"Berou didn't know where you were and I was worried. Forgive me for waking you."

She looked up into my face and a slow smile curled her lips, "Where else would I be, but waiting for you to return to me?" Her gentle poetic words and the touch of her hand on my face made me want to ask her to marry me right now but she rambled on. "I'm happy you are back," her hands snaked around me and she pressed her cheek to my chest to hug me hard. "I'm afraid I've become accustomed to your presence. I don't like to be alone anymore. I used to love it but...suddenly I...just..."

Her voice disappeared and I pulled back to cup her face in one hand. Her eyes were reddened and moist and emotion swelled inside me.

"You've been crying." It wasn't a question and her eyes lowered as tears tracked down her face.

"I…was missing my father," she breathed out as I took her in my arms once more. I stroked her head and her back, trying to say without a word that I was here for her, she had me. I wanted to squeeze her tightly and cover her mouth with mine but didn't think it was what she needed right now. She sobbed quietly against me and I rocked her in my embrace, whispering soothing things in her ear.

I heard movement behind us and glanced sharply over my shoulder. Nadir stood inside the door appraising the situation.

"Is she hurt?" he asked softly in Persian and I shook my head slightly. He nodded and turned away, detouring to close the double doors that I'd left open in my haste to her side.

Once he was gone I turned my attention back to Christine. She needed me and I needed to prove to myself that I could be a good husband to her. I pulled out the handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed her cheeks.

"Christine, my sweet," I held her in the crook of my arm so I could play the cloth down her wet cheeks. "It breaks my heart to see you cry; to hear the sweetest voice on earth so filled with sadness." I cupped her chin and she raised her teary eyes to mine. "I simply can not allow you to be sad, ma chardonnerette." I kissed her delicate nose, "You are my sunshine, you see, and the very definition of sunshine is that it shines. You give forth a glorious cheerful light that has the power to strip away the darkness from my mind and bathe me in fantastic colors." She had stopped crying already and was listening to the rise and fall of my voice with searching eyes. "Your sunny smile and brilliant eyes set me free from my chains of loneliness and bring daylight to my darkness. I prefer you to be my sunshine but," I shrugged, "I suppose you can be my rainclouds as well."

She laughed, like a small burst of pure delight, and when her laughter quieted I spoke softly and seriously.

"I do love you, Christine, ever so much." Her eyes locked on mine and the clear golden depths bathed me in her light. Her face was still wet, the evidence of her grief still written there but suddenly her eyes shone brilliantly at me.

My hands slid into her hair and the windows to her soul fluttered closed as my lips met hers.

She was mine. MY Christine!


	26. Hypnotized

---

Christine

---

His lips seemed to wipe the sadness from my heart and my hands crept up to his lapels. I was amazed that I could feel this happy after feeling so terrible all morning and I curled my fingers up into his hair, combing them through the soft strands as I relaxed against him. The kiss had started gently but Erik's hands tightened and he was suddenly kissing me very possessively. One long boned hand gripped my thigh tightly as the other controlled my head and I tried to relay to him through my touch and lips that I was his.

He pulled back from me abruptly and rubbed his face against mine, "You've changed me, Christine," the purr of his voice so intimate. "You've changed my life."

I was surprised, humbled and entirely in love with this man. More than before if that was even possible. My fingers trailed through his hair and I was about to say I love you when Nadir came in with Berou and Molly in tow.

Erik helped me up quickly and effortlessly, his arm cradling my shoulders against him, possessive and protective, and we stood and watched Nadir command them. He seemed sharp and curt with them, telling them where to place the trays and then just leave us. No thank you, but then are you supposed to thank your servants?

After they cleared out, Erik and I joined Nadir in the sitting area.

"Are you feeling well, Christine?" Nadir inquired, "Berou said you did not eat lunch?"

"I wasn't very hungry," I eyed the tray of cheese and fruit and the small bowl of soup with a biscuit. "Is this all for me?"

Erik sat me in the chair in front of the food, "You have to eat, my love," his voice soft with encouragement. "You did not last night and barely this morning."

I was hungry now so I picked up the spoon and tasted the soup. I watched Erik sit beside Nadir, his long legs bending and stretching out gracefully.

"I've never heard you be so curt with your servants," he began casually and Nadir sighed.

"I don't like to, you know that," he gestured helplessly, "But it was inexcusable."

Erik nodded in agreement, "You know it's because she is with me, don't you?"

"NO," anger flashed on Nadir's face. "No, I will not have a guest treated thusly in my home. Christine, I hope you can forgive my servants behavior?" I swallowed the spoonful of soup in my mouth and answered, even though I wasn't sure what they'd been speaking about.

"Of course, Nadir, it was okay…" I trailed off wondering exactly what he was apologizing for. Did Molly tell him what happened in my room this morning?

"You are too kind," Nadir nodded at me. "Have you told her what transpired?" he glanced at Erik.

"Not yet," Erik turned towards me and I raised my brows as I took another spoonful of soup.

"Mr. DeChangy will be coming to see you this evening." I almost choked on the very spill-able lunch and picked up the napkin.

"Did you give him the letter?" I asked as I dabbed at my lips.

"Yes, and he appreciated it very much," Erik paused looking down for a moment. "He knows who assaulted you." My heart stopped beating.

"Raoul told him?" I squeaked.

"No," Erik's face looked ready to laugh, "We had to tell him."

My gaze drifted from his amused face because I didn't feel amused at all. Why was he coming? I stared into the empty fireplace.

"He just wants to see me? I don't have to get married?" Erik didn't answer and it was Nadir who spoke.

"No dear, Raoul made it up to try to find you quicker. Mr DeChangy just wants to judge for himself that you are happy."

I looked down at my gold skirt, "Do I need to change?" Wouldn't he wonder where I got all the fancy clothing from? Did Erik even bring any of my old clothing? Of course, if they rescued me in my wrapper then I wouldn't have any clothing at all. They would have had to dress me in something.

"No, no," Nadir's voice came gently, "Concentrate on your lunch, we have a few hours."

My mind was in a whirl. I knew I could end all this confusion by just looking at Erik. He always took up so much space in my mind that one look could deter me from all my problems but I wanted to try to figure this all out before I had to see Mr. DeChangy tonight. I picked up a piece of apple, not really wanting to eat it but the smell reminded me of the night Erik combed my hair for me. I recalled the smooth deft flow of his hands and comforted myself with that memory. We would be together. Mr. DeChangy would see me and I would tell him I love Erik. There was nothing he could do to change that.

I bit the apple confidently.

---

Erik

---

'I don't have to get married?'

She must just mean to Raoul because I was fairly certain she would marry me if I asked. I studied her face carefully but she was concentrating on the thoughts in her head.

How could she look more beautiful every day? Every hour that went by? Every time I looked in her eyes?

The image of my monstrous face swam into my mind. I was a freak and yet she kissed me and spoke of love. This beauty looked at me with fathomless love in her eyes. My heart melted a little as her reverie broke and she bit the piece of apple in her hand with vigor.

"I will speak with Berou and Molly before our guest arrives," Nadir's voice pulling my eyes from her. "I will not let them ruin this."

It was rare to see Nadir angry and he was very angry at the moment. "Molly is only frightened of me, I don't think she would even poke her head out."

Christine made a noise but when we turned our attention to her she closed her mouth and averted her eyes, biting gently on her bottom lip.

"Christine, if you have something to say you have to just say it," Nadir was using his persuasive tone. "It wouldn't do to have Mr. DeChangy see you are afraid to speak around us."

"Oh dear," her hand came to her mouth, "I'm not afraid…I just…" her face flushed and she pulled some hair over her shoulder playing nervously. Nadir made a good point but she was just naturally timid. Surely Mr. DeChangy would have noticed that when he first met her. "I don't want to make trouble for Molly," she said finally.

"Has she done something?" Nadir sat forward out of the corner of my eye and I remembered mentioning Molly this morning and Christine looking angry.

"She said Erik is the devil trying to steal my soul," Christine looked embarrassed to be saying it out loud and my mouth fell open.

The devil? What had I done to make her think that? I barely spoke to the woman!

"She even thought he was forcing me to…" Christine blushed and cast her eyes down. "She's under the impression he's taken me against my will, which is completely ridiculous. Where ever would she get that idea?"

I looked to Nadir for an explanation. His face flicked through surprise, annoyance, anger and fear before he noticed me looking at him and shut off the emotion on his face. His reaction surprised me, for it had been a very long time since Nadir had hidden behind a polite blank society mask. Having to deal with the Shah had perfected his and my technique; having your features read constantly tended to help you build up a defense.

I knew he was hiding something from me but Christine was pressing us for an answer.

"She said you have powers…that…you shouldn't possess."

Powers? The only 'power' I could think of was my hypnotic ability but I hadn't used it in years. Where did Molly get these ideas about me?

We both were staring at Nadir because really he was the only one who could shed light on this. I felt almost betrayed, had he told his servants all about me?

He looked pale, "Molly is a very religious woman and something as simple as your alluring voice could have conjured those ideas in her head."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "And my hellish face probably helped."

"Don't say that," Christine frowned at me but I felt very odd and stood up to get away from them both.

No wonder Molly was so scared of me. She thought I was the devil? My hatred of her husband probably didn't help matters but Berou had started all of those ill feelings years ago. Could it have been my voice that scared Molly? Did I not even have to try to hypnotize people with my voice? I noticed how Mr. DeChangy's attention had focused on me when I spoke and others seemed to listen very well when I spoke to them, Bernard, Mme Giry, the managers and Christine herself. I'd noticed the vacant look in her eye a few times when I spoke for a long period of time and her cry to stop talking our first night together…

Evidence was mounting that my voice was hypnotic even without my aiding it but then Nadir never had trouble speaking to me. Or was it different because I often let him control the conversations, still feeling like I was his servant or at least owed him subservience for saving my life more than once.

I moved towards the piano, soothed by the ivory and ebony instrument that never asked too much of me. My fingers sketched over the keys absently not depressing any of them and I could feel both their eyes on my back, both of them waiting on me. I could feel a pull towards them both, something that would stretch me out, trying to rip me apart and it scared me a little. When did this happen? How did I go so quickly from nothing to having this?

Skirts rustled and I knew Christine was coming to me. She slid onto the bench beside me, trailing one slow hand down my back.

"Will you play for me?" she spoke softly, the hum of her voice still thickened from her earlier crying but it was sweet and intimate and I turned to look at my lady. I wanted her to never cry again. I wanted to cradle her in my arms and kiss her eyelids and tell her so but we had an audience right now.

I ran my fingertips down her cheek, my hand looking extremely pale next to her luminous skin. But her eyes, when they saw only me, were dazzling to behold.

"Every time I play, it is for you."

"Perhaps you should play, Erik," Nadir's voice had a strange edge to it. "Then we can see how hypnotized Christine really is?"

My heart raced as Christine turned to look at Nadir, "Hypnotized? Do you think that's why I sing with him when he plays?" She was innocence itself, not hearing the hard edge to Nadir's usually pleasant scratchy voice.

"Erik is an accomplished hypnotist. Did he not tell you?"

I frowned at Nadir as fear and anger filled me. I had no clue that he was aware of my hypnotic abilities. If he knew, then perhaps the Shah knew, perhaps it was why he tried to kill me so often. Christine turned back to me with her head quizzically cocked.

"I would not say 'accomplished' but I do have the ability to hypnotize people."

"Do you think you've hypnotized me? Is that why you didn't tell me?"

Well, I didn't tell her because I didn't think it would matter but now that Nadir was dragging out every sordid detail about me, "I'm not sure anymore what I'm capable of. It's not exactly science we're working with. But I swear I've never purposely hypnotized you." I was anxious for her to believe me and blundered on, "I can tell my voice affects you so I was always very careful…"

"But your voice must affect everyone," she interrupted, touching me, "It's so beautiful…"

"I try not to speak to many people…" I trailed off looking down at her hand that had been placed warmly on my leg.

"I'm not hypnotized," she tried to assure me but I heard Nadir get to his feet.

"How would you know what it feels like if you've never been hypnotized before?" He started walking towards us and anger stirred through me again. Why was he suddenly jeopardizing me?

"You suddenly believe I have hypnotized her and taken her against her will?" I directed my angry voice at him and he stopped moving forward about eight feet from the bench. There was full unadulterated silence for half a minute and he finally sagged looking very old.

"No, I do not." He seemed close to tears.

"Then why do this?" I hissed angrily. That little stir had awoken my rage and it filled me to the eyelids. He was trying to frighten her from me!

"Can't you see how utterly focused she is on you?" he was pleading with me to understand his point but I already knew she was dependant and I didn't care. I liked it. I reveled in it. She would follow me anywhere. I sat up straight ready to defend what I could not and her hand slid over mine.

"I am utterly focused on you, Erik," she nodded to emphasize her point. "I'm constantly worrying and thinking about you. When I'm in silence, I hear the sound of your voice. When the wind whistles in my ears, I hear your music. When I'm not with you, I yearn to be." Her fingers squeezed mine. "I know _you_ haven't hypnotized me but I think your music might."

She smiled at me and my anger leaked away. She yearns for me? That was so sweet.

"You seem to be eerily in tune to the music in my mind," I reasoned as I moved my hand against hers, wanting our fingers to intertwine. They did and the last of my anger melted.

"I know!" she giggled. "It's so amazing! It's as if I know what you will play just as soon as you do!"

"We make quite a team," I teased quietly and she rewarded me with a glowing smile and sparkling eyes. I took a cleansing breath, locking the anger back in its box. It had never before been so easy to put away but she was a magical woman, able to control me like nothing ever had before. Maybe it was me that was hypnotized by her?

---

Christine

---

I stared into Erik's soft grey eyes, smiling. I was dependant on him but it didn't have any negative connotation to it as Nadir kept insinuating. I had been completely dependant on my father and fell apart when he died. It was Erik that had picked me back up and I was so thankful for that.

Looking up at Erik's bare face I was thankful for many other things too. Number one, was that he loved me.

I had been ready to love him without needing his love in return so great was my need for him but he said he loved me. So very much.

My smile grew larger on my face and Erik's lips twitched, his version of a smirk. Someday I would see every emotional expression on his half ruined face and I was willing to wait for them all.

Nadir spoke behind us and I jumped, having forgotten he was even here. "I believe Christine is correct about your music. Even I at times, have felt the pull of your songs." We both turned, surprised.

"Really?" Erik was unbelieving and Nadir nodded.

"Now I think it may have been what caused Anya to be so uncontrollable." Erik's eyes went hard at the unfamiliar name and I wanted to ask who she was but Nadir continued. "Sometimes I feel the urge to express what your music makes me feel but I have no talent for music. Perhaps Christine is more talented and open of mind and therefore more susceptible to the possibilities of the music."

"Why have you never told me?" Erik's voice was tight and Nadir looked away.

"How could I tell the most emotionless person I know that I could feel his emotions in his music?" Nadir sighed and still wouldn't look up, "You've never shared your emotions with me willingly so I didn't think you would want to know this."

Erik's mouth was open, like he didn't know what to say. I didn't either in these strange circumstances. Nadir began to fidget, like he was uncomfortable standing.

"I have work to do before Mr. DeChangy arrives. I will be in the office if I'm needed," and he turned and limped head high from the conservatory. Erik's eyes followed him out and he looked torn. I hated to ask a hard question right at this moment but I had to do it.

"Who's Anya?"

Erik's eyes closed as if in pain, "The girl…" he said quietly. "The young girl in the assembly hall the day my life was given to the Shah, her name was Anya but I didn't…" I let him have time to find the right words to explain but instead he grabbed both my hands in his. "Does my music really hypnotize you?" His voice could lull me all on its own, the way it caressed my skin and made my stomach tremble. "I've never meant to hypnotize you." He sounded a little panicked and I squeezed his hands hard.

"I know, but sometimes when you play, I lose track of time and suddenly will be standing or closer to you and I don't really remember singing with you last night…" I tried to bring the memory to life.

"I never meant to do that to you!" I shushed him gently.

"You needn't defend yourself. I love your music. I've never heard anything so glorious as your music. This connection only further assures me that I was…" I looked down shyly. "That I was meant for you." I finished quietly. One of his hands left our little hand pile and I looked up at him nervously as he combed his fingers through his hair. He looked very troubled.

"But what if I…" I quickly covered his mouth with my freed hand.

"Let's not play with ifs, hmm?" My eyes wandered from his covered mouth up to his striking grey eyes and they focused in on me as his hand slowly came to capture my wrist. His tongue flicked out and tasted my fingers and I gasped.

"You taste like apples," his voice, husky and low, as he opened and closed his mouth over one of my fingers. Heat swirled into my head as he sucked my finger, slowly pulling it out of his mouth while staring into my eyes. I watched the heated passion he felt for me darken his eyes as he repeated the slow wet pull on each finger. My breath quickened and my heart quickened and my other hand was squeezing his, harder and harder. My eyes fluttered somewhere on the third or fourth finger. His hot mouth on my fingers felt deliriously good, sinfully deliriously good. My stomach was trembling and the quivers moved outward through my body, sending tremors of pleasure from within my core.

He pressed my now modestly wet hand to his face and sighed. The sigh shivered down my spine, leaving me feeling weak and warm. His palm pressed mine to his missing cheek, pressed it hard enough that his cheekbone felt sharp against my hand. We didn't move for at least a minute before he spoke.

"If only Nadir could see how dependant I am on you."

The thought of Erik even slightly being dependant on me made me want to laugh. "You both talk like dependency is a bad thing but I only ever had my father in my life. He only had my mother and she him, until I was born. Is that not dependant on each other all around?" His lashes lifted and revealed his moist grey eyes. "If I had fallen in love with some other man," his hands tightened but I had a point so I kept going, "I would have most definitely been dependant on him because it is the only way I know how to be. I'm not strong and independent, like Meg, and don't really want to be."

I slid closer to him and leaned my head on his shoulder and his arms folded around me.

"Let's try to be more positive with our thinking." I wished life could be so simple. I wish I could just be with Erik some place where there were no newspaper articles, no cloying patrons, no competitive girls, no judgmental servants. Just me and Erik. Forever.

---

Nadir

---

Half way down the hall I leaned on the wall to rest for a moment. I should be using my cane but damn if it didn't make me feel like an ancient toddling bear.

I sighed and relaxed into the wall, letting it take my weight for a few minutes. I also felt like a giant idiot and wished I'd just kept my mouth shut.

Why did I start spewing about hypnotism? It was painfully obvious to anyone who cared to look that Christine was in love with Erik. I doubt, even he could manipulate someone to that degree. And why would I think he would manipulate her anyway? He would not! Not the way that I raised him…

But maybe the way the Shah changed him…

Tears filled my eyes. Why did I bring up Anya? I heard Christine ask who she was but I couldn't eavesdrop on their conversation. I'd hastened down the hall as fast as my crippled legs could take me.

Cause trouble then run away…

Was I doomed to cause Erik trouble for the rest of his life? Was that the payment that Allah would take for the gift he so generously gave me?

I started walking towards the kitchen again. I was jealous and I knew it. Christine so easily penetrated all of his barriers and I was jealous because I'd been trying to win his trust for almost two decades. True, I was in prison for those eight years but he lived with me for seven years as a young man and upon my release, I'd immediately begun searching for him. That meant something to me but I'd never mentioned it to Erik.

I'd followed his trail to India where people remembered the masked magician whose music made them weep. He'd only stayed there for a few months but his legend still lived after many years. On the outskirts of one city where he was widely remembered, my carriage had happened upon a burning manor. There were five people standing outside watching the house burn to the ground. They alllooked to be servants and I stopped because in my heart I'd always been a helpful person. I offered water, food and transport to them all but only two accepted, Berou and a quiet girl named Molly. He said he had no reason to stay if their employer had no house and it was clear to me that Molly had come with me because of Berou. I told them I was searching for my son and travelling now to France. They were willing to come because they really had no where to go since they both had been servants in the same house since they were young children. I offered them my employment because I knew I would require help since my prison time had left me less than able.

I reached the kitchen doors and saw them both sitting at the table. Molly was praying with her hands clasped and tears leaking from her tightly shut eyes. Berou sat hunched over and stared at his wife, much the same way Erik looked at Christine, like they had no clue where this beautiful creature came from and why the woman had chosen them. They both looked very distraught and I had a feeling they thought they would be dismissed.

Any other person probably would have, especially after hearing what Molly said to Christine but I had never been one to act out in anger. There had to be a reason for Molly to feel that way about Erik and I had a feeling it would shed some light on many things.

I stepped into the kitchen and Berou stood immediately. He looked scared and I figured I would be too. In a strange country with a wife to feed and you've damaged your working relationship…

"The way you have treated my son's lady is inexcusable," I began.

"Yes sir."

"Some things were also said to her that upset her very much." Berou looked at his wife and her eyes went wide.

"I tried to warn her," she whispered to him and he looked like he would have a stroke.

"Once they are snared you can not deter them," he hissed at her and I was surprised Berou felt the same way as his wife.

"But she is so sweet…" tears rolled unheeded down Molly's face.

"And she belongs to Him now, foolish woman!"

I shuffled forward and raised my hand, "Enough! Apparently you are both under the impression that my son is some kind of devil spawn? Since I am clearly not an evil demon myself could you enlighten me as to why you would think such a thing?"

They both only looked at me with their wide dark eyes and my rare anger was roused.

"I took you both in when I didn't know you from a rock on the ground! I do not wish to eject you from my home, though you richly deserve it! What I do require from you is an explanation for your behavior and I will have it _now_!"

---

Erik

---

Just when I thought everything was falling so beautifully into place, it all started falling apart again. I really was not meant to have any peace. Ever.

I left Christine eating her late lunch and went to find Nadir. He was hiding more from me. I could feel it. I also could not erase her damn name from my head and I needed to know more.

Anya. She had a part in ruining my life before and now would help to ruin it again. If I was truly this hypnotic then was nothing with Christine real? I'd somehow made her my slave? I ground my teeth together. I wouldn't give her up but I wanted to know what the hell was going on!

I knocked before entering his office and thought of kissing Christine in here this morning. Was it only this morning? Felt like I'd been through a few different wringers since then.

I sighed as he called to come in.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," I began but then saw he was not sitting at the desk.

"Not at all, come in." I sat in the chair opposite him where we often sat discussing business. I was nervous to find out more about my past. Those doors had been closed for so long that I feared opening them. Maybe I could just avoid the 'Anya' issue for now. Or if he brought it up and offered details…

I pulled out the ring box to show him.

"I plan to ask her after Mr. DeChangy has had his visit." Nadir looked at the ring and handed it back calmly.

"Very nice," his face had a queer look on it like he was fighting with himself. I wanted to just shake him and say WHAT? But he'd taught me to be better behaved than that.

"I'm not quite sure where we will live once we are married," I wanted to ask him if we could live with him but it seemed rude to do so.

"Perhaps in Sweden. It sounds as if her family home is decent and secluded, if that still matters to you." He was sort of angry at me but not, and I was left scrambling trying to make sense of his words. Did he want me to leave Paris?

"She is eating her belated lunch. I will have to ask her…" I trailed off because his face hardened momentarily and I began jumping to my conclusions.

"You do not like her?"

"That can not be humanly possible."

"Then you do not approve?"

"I've given you my blessing, Erik."

"But you do not think I deserve her."

"You, of all people, deserve some happiness."

"You think I've hypnotized her somehow," I narrowed my eyes at him.

"That I am very sorry for saying." His hands fisted on his knees, "Now you will always second guess her love for you and to do so would be a great travesty." He leaned forward to make his point, his green eyes bright, "Her love for you is pure, Erik. Do not demean it." He settled back in his chair. "What will we do with the business?"

The quick topic change startled me. I hadn't really thought of truly leaving Paris. I'd imagined living part time below and part time with Nadir, letting Christine pursue her music and continuing on in my regular pattern. She said she just wanted to be with me but what if she did want to go home now that I was with her to face the empty house.

"Bernard could finish the next house without me and then I suppose we would terminate. There is plenty of money to live out our lives." Nadir nodded as if he'd expected that answer. He looked sad though and his eyes were questioning me without saying a word. It reminded me of when we first met and how he'd stared at me, searching me silently for the answers to his questions. He never pushed me though, never stepped on my toes. Even as a servant, he never ordered me to do something, he always asked and I always wanted to comply. He was the first person to treat me well and show me kindness, of course I would fetch his paper and tea for him. And all the money he must have spent on educating me…

He had been a sort of father to me for all those years and it made me want to ask why? Why did he let them take me, lure me, train me, beat me, torture me, starve me, bend my will to theirs and kill and kill and kill. If he cared he would have saved me. I'd assumed he hadn't cared enough. I was only the deformed servant but then his sacrifice to save me…

I glanced at his hand absently rubbing his knee and wondered for the thousandth time how he'd been injured in prison. What had they done to him there? He never spoke of it and I never asked. He probably got just as bad as I did but he was far older at the time. I took a deep breath as I realized that I didn't want to move away from him.

"I will speak to Christine about it, I'm not sure I enjoy the thought of leaving." Nadir's face lightened but then went blank again.

"Marriage is about balance, Erik. One of many rules," he leaned forward. "Neither half should over power the other in important decisions. It causes me some worry for you two. She is so timid that I do not think she would ever stand against you."

It was a valid concern but she didn't have to take a stand against me. All she had to do was look at me with those golden eyes or touch me with her soft dainty hands and I would give her anything and everything she wanted.

"You think I would control her?"

"And she would enjoy it," he nodded as if that wasn't the bad part, "But would she ever be able to cope if she lost you?" That was the bad part, and if I was being totally honest with myself…

"No," I agreed, looking away. I hated that he was right but I could not forget her words in the garden. 'It would be worse to lose you' and there was a good chance it would happen. There was no telling how long I'd live and I had to be at least fifteen years older then her. Nadir would die, I would die and she would be alone again in no better way then when her father died. I looked back at Nadir.

"What should I do then?" I asked, throat tight. "I will not walk away from her!" He shook his head and my panic ebbed.

"No, but…" he sat back, fingers stippled thoughtfully. "A long engagement could be good for both of you. It would give you both a chance to grow."

Engagement? I never thought I would live through a moment of this caliber. I smiled slowly at Nadir.

"I can do that." She could keep dancing and move forward into her singing career. I could keep working and we could visit Nadir on Sundays for dinner and spend our other evenings together, talking, singing, touching and…

"Will you allow me to publicly announce it?" Nadir interrupted my thoughts and jarred me into a very real problem. If there was no announcement then other men would still bother Christine but if it was announced, I would have to step out in front of other people as her constant escort. Could I stand the jeers and insults?

For Christine, I would endure anything.

"Yes," I suddenly remembered I came in to get information and the tables had expertly been turned on me. Nadir had me doing precisely what he wanted me to do, not through force but through gentle persuasion.

"I also will be speaking on your behalf tonight, as your father," he reminded me.

"Yes, I know." I still wasn't sure how to go about opening the doors to our past that him and I had left permanently shut. He seemed ready to ignore everything that had been said in the conservatory but I needed to know if Christine was truly hypnotized.

"Did you have something else to ask me? I really should get my work done…" I decided to just out with it.

"I felt as if something was bothering you…no I felt like you were hiding something from me, something that has to do with hypnotizing Christine?"

"First of all, you have not hypnotized her!" his voice had conviction. "Christine loves you! You may control her while you play but it stops there."

"How can you be certain? I may have enslaved her beyond…"

"It's the same for me," he faltered and then sagged in his chair with a tremendous sigh, "I don't know what to tell you Erik." He looked frail suddenly and I leaned forward worriedly.

"Are you well?"

"Yes, yes," he waved me off impatiently, sitting back up. "I've just recently discovered that when you play the listener is drawn to you. It's one of the reasons Berou can't stand you and Molly is frightened of you and thinks you have dark powers. It's probably also why Anya did as she chose," my mind reeled.

"And for you?" but he always said he liked my music.

"Your music is incredibly beautiful to listen to," he sat up even straighter, holding his head high. "The urge is easy to resist if you want to. All those people you've played for must have been able to resist the urge as well; perhaps they dismissed it as good music. Anya and Christine chose not to fight it." My mouth was agape at all the evidence of my 'powers'.

I had to tell Christine. I could not lie about this.

"Secondly," he continued as he relaxed once more, "I am jealous."

"What?"

"Even these tired eyes know what true love looks like and it makes me feel old and very alone…" He could see it? Maybe you had to experience love to know it on sight.

"What does love look like?" I asked quietly like a small boy. He stared at the fire.

"Two people gazing into each other's eyes and seeing whatever it is they need right there looking back at them." He took a deep breath and then started moving to the desk.

Seeing what they need…I certainly saw acceptance in hers. What did she see in mine? Her blind submission to my every whim? I stood to leave him and there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Nadir called from his desk. I was expecting Berou, not my lovely lady, but there she was staring at me through the open door. Nadir walked between us.

"Christine, did you wish to speak with me?" He motioned her in and she came in haltingly but nodded.

"Yes, but I can come back if I interrupted…" she trailed off looking at me again.

"I believe we were finished, Erik?" he looked for me to leave and I could not think of a reason to stay so I made my way to the door feeling like they were shutting me out. Nadir gave me a shrug as he shut the door and I was left staring at the solid wood door. I could eavesdrop with my earpiece but I felt oddly empty. My chest hurt and I turned to go be alone when the door opened suddenly. I looked back as Christine launched herself into my arms. I caught her with a surprised exhalation and she whispered in Swedish, "Meet me at the bench in half an hour?"

She squeezed me tightly as I returned the hug feeling a hundred times better and then she released me and returned to the office with a smile.

I smiled too, daftly at the now closed door. I turned away feeling amazing. How did she do that? How did she know I needed it? I didn't _make_ her do that. She'd done it all on her own and I didn't tell her to meet me in the garden either. It was all her idea. I went to my room to put away the ring. If we were to rendezvous in the garden she would probably put her hands on me and I didn't want her to find the ring before I asked her.

---

Christine

---

I closed the door again and looked at Nadir's raised eyebrows.

"He needed a hug," I explained as I moved to sit in front of the fire with Nadir. Erik had looked so lost, so forlorn that I couldn't just leave him like that.

"I daresay he did," Nadir sat with me and I took a deep breath. Seeing Erik though had distracted my train of thought quite a bit. I needed to regroup and recall all the words I'd wanted to say. Well, I would start with something simple.

"My mother died when I was young and I grew up with my father as my only family. Someone at his funeral called him a recluse and I suppose he was. Would you call Erik a recluse?"

"In ways. He does meet with a few people but only when necessary."

"He comes to see you every week," I smiled; glad that I could point out Erik cares about him. These two were so guarded with their feelings.

"He does," Nadir looked confused, like he wasn't following where I was going with this. Where was I going with this? I furrowed my brow to concentrate.

"I came to talk to you about Erik," I clarified. "I will make him happy I think." I wanted to see what he thought about that.

"I believe you would make him very happy," he agreed and yet looked sad at the same time.

I didn't know what else to say and bit my lip as I looked down at my hands. I had more to say than this! But my thoughts had scattered in Erik's presence, as if there wasn't room for both in my head. Did that mean I was hypnotized or was I just grossly obsessed with him?

There had been two major reasons for me coming to speak to Nadir…oh…how could I forget…

"Did Anya love Erik?"

Nadir pondered for a second, "No. She wanted Erik to be her personal slave but when she saw his face she screamed and cried…" How terrible for Erik.

"Why did she want him to be her personal slave?"

"I'm not entirely sure but I believe she was curious about him. When he played the piano that night she got up and danced much like you just up and sang with him last night. She was never denied anything, so asking for a whole human was not a stretch for her."

"I love him, Nadir," I whispered it sort of desperately and he looked at me sadly.

"I know and now my foolish words have made him question your love. I apologize, Christine. I never meant for the two of you to know any of this."

"I'm glad you brought it up. Maybe if he understands more about his past, he won't have so much anger…"

"There is much I have kept from Erik," he looked at the fire with a far off look in his eye.

"You should tell him you love him." I stated boldly and Nadir straightened in his chair, his brow furrowed at me disapprovingly. "I know what love looks like on a father's face. Blood doesn't matter; you still love him as if he was your son."

Nadir sagged with a small laugh, "I suppose it's easy to see to those on the outside."

"Erik is blind to it. I had to beat him over the head with my love for awhile before he would even consider believing it." I smiled warmly at Nadir and he slowly smiled with me.

"Now," he said in a business like manner. "I highly doubt you came in here to conjure up these sentiments. Was there something you needed?"

"You said to ask if there was anything…"

"I meant it, Christine."

"I need a favor." He nodded once and let me speak. "I wish to be with Erik, but everything seems so out of my control. I have no one to arrange things for me and don't have one clue where to even start." I met his eyes, "Will you speak on my behalf tonight? Will you arrange things so that Erik and I can be together?" I always ramble when I get nervous, "I know Erik wants to take care of everything himself but sometimes he gets very angry and I don't know if he can even control himself when he gets that angry and Mr. DeChangy might not even let him speak for me since he isn't very well an impartial party…"

"As Erik's father, I'm not exactly an impartial party either." He had a good point but…

"But for what purpose would you seek to join your magnificent son with the likes of me? I have no family, no money and dance in the corps for the Opera Garnier. I'm not exactly suitable marrying material for someone of Erik's status."

Nadir began to smile, "So then, why am I going to fight for the two of you?"

"For love." I smiled. Nadir laughed gently and his emerald eyes twinkled.

"It is a noble cause but I warn you that Mr. DeChangy may not approve of this arrangement."

"I know you will do your best, for me and for your son." I stood feeling reassured and Nadir rose to see me out.

I put my arms around him and hugged him tightly, "Thank you."

He was surprised but gave me a gentle hug back, "Thank me when it's all over."

I left his office feeling buoyed and watched over my shoulder as I carefully closed the back door. I didn't grab my jacket or cloak because Berou had been close by them. I shivered as the cool air covered me and quick stepped down the path. My foot falls could easily be heard so Erik was standing and waiting when I came around the corner. I couldn't stop the smile from breaking over my face as I flew into his arms.

"Glad to see that you are on time even for trysts in the garden," I giggled into his chest as his arms folded tightly around me.

"For that, I would never be late," his voice flopped from amused to stern, "You will catch cold without covering." I snuggled into him holding him even tighter.

"Not with you holding me," and his cloak was suddenly settled around me so only my head poked out of the top with his.

"Ah, so you had ulterior motive in not wearing your cloak." He was amused again.

"I can't say I really thought it out but now that we are here why ruin a good thing."

I listened to the beat of his heart, the most beautiful music he could ever create and sighed contentedly as his hand began to trail over my hair. Then one of his gloved hands cupped my chin, delicately tilting my face up to his. We stared at each other, our lips so close that our breath was shared. His eyes searched mine, silently asking permission and I gazed at him entirely besotted with everything about him. Hypnotized or not, I didn't care, this feeling in my chest couldn't be faked.

His lips descended on mine with a fierce reaffirmation of our passionate love. It was not gentle or soft but it filled me with heated joy and I couldn't seem to grab enough of him. I was pulling on his clothing and when my palms pressed to his scarred back I broke our kiss startled. His eyes were dark with heat and they pulled me back in as much as his hands did. When his mouth moved off mine over my jaw my own lips travelled off his face to his neck where I absurdly wanted to bite him.

"I can't…get enough of you," I panted to resist the crazy urge. Instead I began kissing his neck and jaw, stretching on my toes to reach his ear, as my nails curled against his back.

"Neither can I…" he purred taking my ear between his teeth. Heat swam through me and I shuddered against him.

"Come to my room tonight," I whispered in Swedish softly in his ear. I felt him stop all movement and collect himself. I wanted to dig my nails into his back in protest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me as if to protect me.

"I can't," he breathed into my hair, "It's not right."

That surprised me. I pulled back enough to look at him, the feel of his skin still under my palms the most 'right' thing I'd ever felt.

"According to whom?" he was surprised by my question.

"Society." He frowned and I relaxed.

"Is that all?" I slid my palms up his back and pressed my breasts to his chest. I felt him suck in a breath. "This feels right to me," I said softly into his neck.

Erik instantly relaxed into me, his hands trailing languidly up and down my spine, "To me as well, ma chardonnerette."

Where moments ago I was frantic to kiss him, I now was fine just holding him. Every moment I learned more about love and desire and part of me was wishing I'd paid more attention when the girls had talked about pleasing a man. I wanted to please him but didn't know how. 'It is something to be learned together' his voice whispered through my head. I calmed, knowing he had as much experience as I did.

My hands slid along his back slowly feeling the faint ridges of the scars. I'm sure it was not proper to have my hands up his clothing but it just didn't feel bad or wrong. It did not feel evil in the slightest. It felt marvelous.

His skin almost felt warm and I moved from exploring his back to run my palms down his smooth unblemished sides. He quivered as I did it and I looked up smiling.

"Are you ticklish?"

"I do not know."

"How can you not know?"

"No one has ever tried to tickle me," his voice admonished me for not thinking of that and I figured now was a good time to try.

I sketched my nails up his ribs from waist to armpits and he shuddered, his face twitching. I did it again feeling very naughty. A laugh bubbled through him and he tried to talk and push me away, "I think…" I tickled him again following him as he backed up with laughter spilling from his mouth, "Chr-ristine."

I was merciless and he was laughing too much to effectively fend me off and I cornered him against one of the pillars that held the roof to the covered area. His joy washed over me; the sound of his laughter echoing through the garden was the most beautiful music. I finally relented with a few giggles of my own as I slipped my arms around him again. He took a shuddering breath and sagged against me briefly before pulling back to cup my face.

He was relaxed and smiling and his eyes were so full of shining joy that they overtook the view of his face. I gazed up at him, breathlessly waiting for his kiss. Did everyone feel this senseless while in love? Or did I only want him so viciously because I was hypnotized?

"I suppose this means I am ticklish?" his voice had laughter in it and I laughed in response as he slid one hand into my hair bringing me closer. He buried his face in my curls, holding me tight as he breathed me in. I breathed out slowly and played my hands down his clothed back imagining all those scars. How I wished I could erase them. Did he hypnotize me to feel that way too? I closed my eyes to nuzzle into him. How ridiculous to even think it. I wanted to hold and protect him and wipe away every sad memory in his head but I also wanted to tangle my body around his until they mold into one. Did I affect him in the same manner?

"I think we should refrain from touching when Mr. DeChangy is here," he said it grudgingly and I giggled.

"I'll try," he pulled back immediately and his face was serious, brows drawn. I tried to sober myself but it was hard with his body next to mine.

"What do you mean?" I blushed, looking away.

"I can't always stop myself," I shrugged, "I just want to hold you and touch you…all the time." He was still for a second but then his hand slid under my hair, tracing my neck lightly. He'd removed his glove somehow and his bare fingers played up my neck bones.

"I suppose that I know exactly what you mean," he spoke tenderly and I sighed heartily.

"When this is all taken care of we are going to hide for a month," my voice disappeared, realizing what I was insinuating and I squeezed him to keep him from looking at me in shock.

"There are quite a few things that we must take care of first," he murmured into my hair.

"I know," I rested my wandering hands on the curve of his backside. "I asked Nadir to speak on my behalf tonight."

"And what would you have of me?" he sounded surprised but not angry at my decision and I tried to think of something he could do for me.

"You can kiss me?" I wanted to suddenly very badly. His fingers trailed up my neck continuing into my hair where he twisted a large handful to get me to look up.

"Will you never tire of me?" his lips quirked like he was joking but his eyes…

"Never," I vowed as I slid my hands back up under his shirt and he took my mouth with a physical force. Time spun away, along with my modesty, and when Erik turned to pin me against the pillar I arched into him, pushing my body against his until every part was molded to him. We pressed our bodies so completely that it was as if this was how two became one. We would blend into one and become a shining thing of pure joyous love.

My leg rose on its own and curled around the backs of his and my hands began to pull on his neck tie. His body shuddered pushing me hard into the pillar and he growled something that sounded like my name. Suddenly, he spun me away from him and pressed me against the pillar. My cheek was on cold stone, my front intimately pressed along the rounded length and then his body covered me completely. His body pressed to my back and bottom, hard as stone himself, and his hands splayed mine around the pillar. His breath rasped in my ear for a moment and fear and desire chased themselves through my stomach as his body pressed mine flat. I turned my face towards him, kissing his malformed lips…

"Stop!" he commanded harshly. A wave of rejection hit me so hard that it was like being splashed with cold water. Being pressed so close to me, Erik did not miss my reaction, the instant tears, the ripple of tension and my trembling lips. His lips touched my ear and he crooned at me, "Christine, my angel, my love…the day will come when you are naked in my arms and we can explore each other fully," his voice made the words a promise and I shuddered pleasantly at the thought. "But today can not be that day."

He was right. Did I actually start removing his clothes here in the garden? He nuzzled my neck as if he couldn't help himself and we both relaxed.

"Try not to test my failing control. You make it quite difficult to be good." I melted a little as he began kissing along my cheek but his words made me sad. Did he think we were sinning too? This was bad. We were bad. Marriage could keep it from being a sin but then was it not natural to want him so much. Was it all orchestrated by his music in my mind? But then how had I hypnotized him into wanting me so terribly? Is that why he could control himself and I could not?

Erik's hands released me finally and as I turned towards him he swirled his cloak off and around my shoulders.

"Perhaps we should practice not touching," he started and the absurdity of that brought a smile to my face. Erik smiled with me and his adorable lopsided smile drew me towards him and he stepped back laughing, hands raised. "It may be more difficult than we think."

I stopped, realizing I'd been reaching for him and giggled with him, "I'll try." I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent that was all Erik emanating from his cloak.

"I must confess something to you," he looked disturbed suddenly and I got worried. "New information has led me to believe that our connection through music is not as innocent or singular as I wished it to be. Apparently I have the ability to control the listener while I play and force them to feel for me. It usually ends when I stop playing but the first time I played for you…" he looked away, "I wanted you to love me. I wanted your acceptance. I was thinking it while I played for you and I may have forced those feelings into your heart."

I tried to recall that muddled memory but it was slippery. Was that it? Was that the point of origin for all these feelings? I frowned. It couldn't be. I'd been drawn to him from the first moment, well maybe not the very first but before he played his intoxicating music for me. Maybe his music brought on my love faster but I was sure it would have happened anyway. I was not lying when I told him he was my knight.

He stood silent, knowing the effect even his voice had on me.

Looking back I could clearly see that I'd loved him from almost the start. When he'd told me his past, it had frightened and upset me but it did not matter. I was his already then. When I'd woken in his home in a woman's room, I was hurt and jealous and then even though he'd kissed me very roughly I had enjoyed it. I blushed hotly and looked away from him.

I leaned back against the pillar, trapping my hands behind me because thinking of love's first kiss made me want to grab him for a repeat but we were trying to practice.

I remember standing in my closet, praying not to be found because I could not bear to never see him again. I remembered the feeling in my chest every time he was there for a lesson, every time he bowed to me, every time I looked in his eyes, every time he said my name. I plucked the memories from my mind and replayed them all and every one of them told me the same thing.

"I fell in love with you from the very beginning." I was sort of awed that I'd been so blind to it and he stared at me like he wanted to believe but didn't want to hope too hard.

"It could be my voice," he clipped his words to cripple his melodious voice and my brow furrowed. It could be but at the heart of the matter, WHO CARED? People fell in love all around the world for different reasons. His mesmerizing voice and spellbinding music didn't work on everyone or people would like him better but they worked on me because I was meant to be his. My reasoning seemed simple and rational to me.

"It could be that I was meant to be yours," I repeated and smiled cheekily, liking my reasoning far more than his. "Didn't I tell you to try to think more positively?"

His face softened and his shoulders relaxed as he took a deep breath. "I had to tell you. I could not keep it from you or lie." He looked down at his hands, one bare and one gloved. "I want…" he trailed off as if still thinking about his words, staring at his hands.

"I want…" he said again and the word throbbed in my ears. Want.

He made me want. He made me want more than what I knew was possible. He was a fantastic feast for all of my senses and I wanted nothing more then to give in to all of my sinful urges with him. If it was evil to feel this way for him then I guess I was ready to burn.

---

Erik

---

I stared down at my pale murderous hand that could so easily rip her dress apart and feel its way down her body. Want was not a strong enough word for what I …well wanted.

Lust. Mindless lust is what blinded me when things got carried away with her. The rational part of my brain knew she was willing and wanting but I couldn't let go.

Besides that we were out in the garden, Erik? I shook my head.

"I want…" I started again and stopped. I wanted to ask her to marry me right now, right here before Mr. DeChangy came and possibly changed her mind.

No, no, have faith in her, Erik.

"I…" had totally forgotten what I was telling her. Annoyed with myself I began straightening my clothes, tucked my shirt back in and put my glove back on, and Christine pushed away from the pillar.

She walked slowly one way and our eyes locked. She turned and paced by me watching me from the confines of my cloak and for a moment it reminded me of the lion I once fought, the way it paced back and forth, testing you, waiting for weakness from behind golden eyes. Christine and a lion were not of similar personalities and the incongruity brought a smile tugging at my lips.

"What are you doing?" I asked bewildered and almost laughing.

"Testing myself."

"What kind of test?" I was still bewildered but no longer felt like laughing.

"A test of wills, I suppose," she reached one hand towards me as if to draw me closer and then pulled back. "I just want to touch you like nothing I've ever felt…" our eyes met and she trailed off, coming towards me. She stopped abruptly and laughed, "I think I need more practice."

I studied her carefully. She seemed so relaxed and at ease with the thought that I controlled her. Of course, she just managed to resist my obvious pull. It saddened me immensely that our love was tainted by this but I would still do the right thing. I would still be a gentleman regardless of how I won her. I could do that for her.

Pledge your life to her. Marry her and then finally let go with her. But first we had to take care of Mr. DeChangy.

"If you can not resist me, perhaps I should be absent from tonight's meeting," it was only good sense.

"No Erik," her head cocked to one side as she considered me. "I think I only have a hard time resisting when we are alone together." She blushed and looked away, "I don't think I'll attack you when Mr. DeChangy is here." She looked entirely embarrassed and my lips twitched.

"Attack me?" I couldn't help saying her chosen words with a smile.

She glanced up and then blushed even more, "I suppose ravish would work too." I laughed.

"Ravish? Should it not be me who ravishes you?" I stepped towards her knowing I could no longer resist her myself with all this talk. Her eyes lit up as I scooped her into my arms and pressed kisses to her jaw, working my way to her mouth whispering, "We can practice later."

Her arms slithered out from beneath my cloak to slip up around my neck as we kissed.

Happiness is a light that shines from within you, warming you from within.

Christine is my happiness. Christine is my light.


	27. Insecurity

---

Erik

---

We snuck back in without being seen, both of us feeling naughty. The conservatory was empty so we hastened in, knowing dinner would be soon. We sorted out some sheet music, looking for a new one to try later. Christine blushed lightly every time our eyes met and I knew Mr. DeChangy would notice something like that. He was a sharp man.

I knew what had caused this change in her. That one moment in the garden when our bodies had slipped into a dance as old as Adam and Eve was burned into my memory. But it had not been the time and definitely not the place, not that either one of us had seemed concerned with it at the time. I had to promise both of us it would happen because stopping us had been very painful for me.

I twirled one of her curls through my fingers and she glanced at me biting her lip suggestively. Suddenly the doorbell peeled lightly from the front of the house and Christine went from happy and relaxed to tense and worried in one second.

"He's here now?" she jumped to the same conclusion as me. Who else would be here? Well, then let the game begin.

"Come sit down and we'll wait for them to join us." I saw her to the chair because I didn't think she would make it on her own. She was shaking with fright. "Christine," I cupped her cheek gently looking into her eyes. They were wide and her lips were pressed together. "Remember that I am Nadir's son and we've only really known each other for a few days," I wanted to make sure our lie was seamless.

"And I spoke to you at the mask," she nodded quickly, too quickly. "I remember what to say, Erik," she swallowed nervously and wrung her hands. "I just hope Raoul didn't come with him."

"I am quite sure he came alone," I tried to reassure her, hoping Mr. DeChangy was intuitive enough to know she could not handle that. She began touching her hair as if to check it. It was perfect so I took her hands from her hair and knelt before her. "Christine," she was watching the door and I tried to get her full attention. "Ma chadonnerette?" I sang out softly.

She looked down a little surprised, her lashes fluttering and I smiled encouragingly.

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Nadir and I will handle this." I kissed her hands gently and whispered, "I love you," as footsteps sounded in the hall.

"I love you," she replied and I hastened to my seat across from her, close but properly distanced. She looked more at ease as she looked expectantly towards the door.

Berou opened both doors extravagantly and Nadir walked in with Mr. DeChangy at his side. I let him see us before standing to greet them.

"Monsieur," I nodded politely fighting the urge to turn my face. He nodded but his eyes were on Christine. He hurried to her, clearly relieved to see her whole with his own eyes.

"Christine," his voice was infused with emotion and he forcefully hauled her out of her chair by her upper arms to clasp her to his chest.

I went rigid at his less than careful handling of Christine but Nadir made a sharp gesture behind Mr. DeChangy and I tried to calm down. He was just happy to see her. He finally released her and held her at arms length smiling broadly. She looked surprised but was smiling tentatively. Mr. DeChangy looked to Nadir and then myself.

"Forgive me for intruding before dinner but I had to see you, Christine. Gustave was a dear friend and I just…" he paused his face halting. "Why for god's sake did you not get on that train?" he shook Christine sharply and that was it for me. Rage clouded my mind and I stepped forward.

"Release Mademoiselle Daae!" My voice whirred strangely even to my own ears and he immediately let go as if she was hot to the touch. I tried to contain myself but couldn't. "I can not allow you to shake her in that manner." At least that was much more polite.

"She's been through a lot," Nadir joined us in the sitting area and touched him to get his attention. I could tell Nadir was trying to take control of things and calm things down and I let my breath out slowly willing myself to relax. "I do not blame her for not wanting to return home alone," he smiled indulgently at Christine and then at our guest. "Will you sit?" he gestured to the empty chair opposite Christine. Trying to keep him away from me maybe?

We all sat down and Christine glanced at me quickly smiling just a little before she looked down demurely. My heart squeezed.

After this meeting I would ask her to spend her life with me and marry me. She would be mine forever and I would never let another man touch her. I could endure this to have her be mine forever.

---

Christine

---

My hands were clasped tightly together and I stared at them not sure where to look. Mr. DeChangy mentioned Papa and I knew it should hurt me to think of him but it didn't. I still loved him tremendously but he was with God and I was with Erik. I glanced at him sitting so straight and proper, his chin held high, not hiding his face at all, looking so strong and sure, handsome and mine…

I looked back down at my hands blushing as I remembered our ardent kisses in the garden. Heat ran through me.

"Christine, you could have told me you had no wish to return home," Mr. DeChangy sounded pained and I looked up biting gently on my lip. "I would have let you stay," he seemed sincere and I was embarrassed by my sneaky behavior.

"I am sorry for the trouble I've caused, I couldn't go home without him," now my throat clenched and tears wet my eyes. Erik shifted out of the corner of my eye and I took a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling. He hated to see me upset and could not comfort me at the moment.

"You will come home with me tonight," I blinked at him quite surprised and Nadir interrupted.

"I'm not sure that is the best place for Mlle Daae due to recent events," he subtly hinted about Raoul and I was glad I'd asked him to speak for me. I couldn't think fast enough.

Raoul's father went red and I looked down pretending not to see. Berou interrupted further talk by coming in with a tray and some wine. He poured us each a glass and left again. I took a tentative taste. I'd never had wine before.

"Christine," Mr. DeChangy started and I noticed he kept using my first name familiarly even though I'd known Erik and Nadir for longer and much better and they were calling me Mademoiselle. I suppose him and my father were quite good friends for him to be so casual with me. "Do you honestly want to live at the opera house?" He made it sound terrible but most of my memories of it were peaceful, fun or thrilling. But I'd thought I'd stay here or with Erik.

"Well…" but I hadn't really asked Nadir and I couldn't mention living with Erik. I looked to them both, not wanting to say the wrong thing and Nadir smiled, just a tiny little curl of his mouth, just like Erik's tiny smiles, as he spoke.

"Life at the Opera Garnier is not as dire as you would think. Surely you have some knowledge of that as a patron…" Nadir gained Mr. DeChangy's attention, telling him of his personal acquaintance with Mme Giry and the more than adequate accommodations. I took the opportunity to steal a quick glance at Erik as I took a sip of wine.

He was incredibly tense and I recalled his commanding voice demanding my release. I licked the wine from my lips slowly, enjoying the woodsy flavor and his eyes flicked to mine. Heat swam through me at the look in his eyes.

"Do you like the wine?" he asked quietly, making polite conversation as if we had never slept in each other's arms or rolled around on the rug in front of the fire in his bedroom.

"Yes," I answered equally quiet. "I've never had wine before." He smiled a little and it was the same as Nadir's.

"Be careful then, it can go straight to your head," he warned softly, his eyes glowing at me. I stared at him with a silly look on my face, sort of enchanted and in love and uncaring of company. He raised one eyebrow at me, amused I suppose by my obvious adoration.

"Mlle Daae has asked me to speak for her in place of her father," Nadir's voice brought me back to the present and broke my concentration on Erik.

"What?" Mr. DeChangy was taken aback, "I am her guardian in his stead!"

"I believe she is old enough to speak for herself but she has chosen to allow me to help her," Nadir sounded very confident and I was glad again that I'd asked him for this favor.

"She's practically a child," Mr. DeChangy argued and Erik stiffened and Nadir's mouth hardened.

"I think we should take this conversation to my office," he began to stand and Erik quickly grabbed his cane for him and helped him up.

Mr. DeChangy looked at me and the look was sad but proud and bewildered. What had I done that deserved such a look? Not knowing what to say, if anything, I said nothing at all and only stared at him soundlessly.

"Very well," he followed Nadir out and Erik sat back down, considerably more at ease. He took a long drink from his wine and then put the glass away from himself.

"Was that terribly difficult for you?" he asked as I took another sip of my wine, noticing the fruitiness for the first time.

"I feel like I've hurt him but I don't know why…" I trailed off pondering if he felt the need to father me with mine gone and them having been close.

"But you are…okay?" he asked not looking at me but off to the fire, oddly distracted.

"Yes." I sipped the wine again taking more into my mouth and holding it in as I stared at Erik.

"I thought you may need comforting…" he glanced at me and he looked shy and suggestive all in one look. I swallowed and the wine slid very warmly down my throat.

"If by comfort you mean holding me…I'm not sure that is a good idea…" I smiled knowing I'd get carried away if he held me.

"Right," he grinned suddenly, "We are not to be trusted alone." His eyebrows waggled playfully a few times and then he sobered with a glance at the doors. "Honestly," he slouched into the couch more, "I think I need comforting."

I made to rise but his hands came up to stop me, "No, no don't test our control. That's all we need, is for Mr. DeChangy to see me ravish you." The thought of it made me light headed and I took a drink of wine nervously as his hands dropped back down. "I do not think he wishes you to stay here."

"Well, he has no authority to dictate what I can do," I waved my hand dismissively. Erik's lips pressed together in an amused manner. "Do I amuse you?" I asked petulantly, annoyed that I wasn't constantly desirable to him.

"Continually," his eyes glowed lovingly at me and I shivered. "You give me great pleasure without even trying…" he purred and I took a drink of the wine to distract myself from Erik. I purposely looked away from his teasing countenance and pretended interest in the walls and paintings. His new confidence was more difficult to deal with than his usual stoic politeness.

Mr. DeChangy would certainly want to see me before he left and Erik seemed bent on teasing me into bad behavior. He kept crooning endearments at me trying to get me to look at him and I looked everywhere but at him, thinking of anything but him. Nadir was trying to keep me with Erik and I was trying to keep my hands to myself when nothing would make me happier than to give in to Erik's playful teasing. It was my only excuse for reaching the bottom of my wine glass. I was distracting myself from Erik and instead polished off my very first glass of wine in far too little time with barely any food in my belly. I leaned forward to put the empty glass down and wobbled almost right out of my seat.

Erik was next to me in an instant, his hands steadying me, "You finished the entire glass?" He was half laughing and I scowled at him, which was not like me at all. Usually his laughter filled me with joy and warmth. I shook my head, touching my forehead. Is this what Erik meant about the wine going to my head?

"Let's go to the doors," Erik commanded gently as he lifted me to my feet.

"Why? I do not have my jacket," seemed important even though I'd gone out earlier without it. Erik definitely looked like he was laughing at me.

"The cold will clear your head," he explained and I frowned. What was wrong with my head? Actually now that he mentioned it, my head did feel a little fuzzy and warm and heavy. Was I drunk on so little wine? "The wine is fortified and packs quite a punch. I do not think it would be good if Mr. DeChangy were to notice you were slightly tippled." I giggled conspiratorially as Erik opened the doors.

The garden was quiet and inviting. I thought of pulling him out into the night where darkness could hide our sinful encounters. Red suffused my cheeks and I stepped away from him to clutch the door jam. The wine was definitely in my head to make me think that with Mr. DeChangy in the next room deciding my fate.

Who gave him the right to decide my fate? Was my own fate not mine to decide? Did Papa give him the rights to my fate?

I sighed heavily relaxing into the doorway as the cool night air helped clear my head. Erik stood at the other side of the doorway with his hands behind his back.

"I should not have allowed you to drink so much wine but I was selfishly gazing at how beautiful you looked ignoring me," his voice was soft and apologetic as he took on the blame for my foolishness.

I waved feebly, "At least I have the power to ignore you," I joked lamely wishing I didn't have to ignore him. I wanted to just throw my arms around him and see what it would feel like to kiss him with my head a little fuzzy. Instead I counted the stones that made up the path that led deeper into the gardens away from the house. I counted fifty seven stones that I could see before they disappeared around some brush. I counted them again to see if I ended at the same number and when I did I decided I was no longer feeling tipsy. I stood by myself away from the door jam.

"Do you feel better?" he asked softly standing at attention lest I fall over.

"Sort of," I glanced at him and realized I was still muddled. All my inhibitions and doubts were stripped away and I was left bare to him. My desire was on the surface for anyone to see and I backed away from Erik to trap my hands behind me and lean on the door frame. His fiery embrace was so blindingly marvelous that it took incredible restraint to not give in to my desire. I distracted myself by talking. "Why do you think he wants me to leave?"

"Because he feels responsible for you, guilty because of his son and because he did not make sure going home is what you wanted. He just wanted you gone and that eats at him now. He feels responsible for everything that has befallen you and wants to repair it by taking care of you now. He is also sad that you trust Nadir and not him and thinks you are not mature enough to care for yourself or to decide things for yourself."

It all made sense to me, even the odd look gave me as he left made sense now too.

"How do you know such things?"

He shrugged and began straightening his cuffs which he usually did when he was nervous but to anyone on the outside he was merely fixing his cuffs. "You can read people by studying their face." I remembered him telling me about the Shah, 'At first, I liked him…he taught me many things…'

"Is that why you hold your face so still at times?" I'd thought it was because of the mask.

He shrugged again, as if his jacket didn't fit properly, which was impossible, "The mask pops off with any overt facial expressions but old habits die hard anyway…" he didn't want to speak of his past right now but I knew he would tell me later if I was still interested.

"What do you read in my face?" I asked instead. He stared out at the darkening gardens for a few minutes and I waited patiently. I knew he had heard me and even if he didn't answer me right this second I knew he would eventually. I shivered finally feeling the cold and began to close my door. Erik followed suit and our hands brushed innocently as the doors locked into place. Erik took one of my hands in his gloved one and gazed down at me solemnly.

I was compelled to repeat my question, "What do you see?" His half handsome, half horrendous face calmly searched mine and then he bowed his head, touching his lips to my knuckles.

"Love, acceptance and...salvation."

---

Erik

---

I fetched Christine some water to help dilute the effects of the wine. She was beyond adorable and I could hardly wait to make my pledge to her. I was drowning in her love but I was drowning with a smile on my face.

The only hurdle left was Mr. DeChangy.

I'd barely returned to Christine's side when Nadir came in alone and looked at me, "He wishes to speak with you."

"Why?"

"He would like to explain his reasoning to you," Nadir was doing his best to hold his face blank but he was annoyed.

I met him at the door like the changing of the guard, "Did you not like his reasoning?"

"I was merely speaking on Christine's behalf and I am fairly certain she will not be happy with this." It was an inauspicious warning for me before I walked into Nadir's office.

Mr. DeChangy was flushed but composed, "Ah, Mr. Karan, I do hope I can make you see reason."

I sat across from him, "I am a reasonable man." Some of the time.

"Yes, I can see that you are a fine gentleman and you also are an excellent businessman and a superior mason. You have a thriving business and your name is well known in the housing market. You would make a perfect choice for a husband."

"But?" I prompted at his pause because I knew it was coming.

He shifted uneasily, "Christine was sheltered all her life. Gustave never wanted her to grow up, he was afraid of losing her to her future husband but when he discovered he was dying…" he stopped for a moment as if thinking of his deceased friend pained him. "I hadn't seen either of them in almost ten years and then suddenly he's at my door begging that I marry Christine to one of my sons. Phillip is married and Raoul, well, he is but a boy. He would willingly marry her but I will not have it. His love for her is little more than obsession, but I…I still can not believe he attacked her." Anger was swimming through me but I swallowed it down.

"And yet he did," I asserted. Mr. DeChangy nodded.

"I know. My son is a foolish boy and boy he will stay until the right woman snaps him straight." He looked directly at me, "Christine is not that woman."

I was relieved to hear him say that but more had to be coming.

"I can see you care for her but, forgive me for asking, how old are you?"

I lied. "Thirty," I said smoothly, knowing I had a few more years than that under my belt.

"You are a little old for her but not so much…I was about the same with my precious Purdy," he smiled warmly thinking of his wife but I could not fake a smile for him. Where was he going with all this? He sighed, "Gustave asked me to find her a husband, he begged me to make sure she was cared for and I thoughtlessly tried to get rid of her. Raoul was so taken with her that I feared he would do something foolish, like run away with her or…well…I suppose he has done something foolish." He looked down at his lap, pained by his son's actions. "I have to see her married," he said almost to himself.

"I will marry her," I said stiffly but I knew…oh God…I knew it would not be enough for him.

He leaned back and stippled his fingers contemplatively, "How often would you say you leave the premises?"

"Most days for work and the odd opera," my heart was beginning to pound and a tremor was starting in my limbs. I clamped them all down so he wouldn't see me shake.

_You knew, monster. You knew you could not keep the angel by your side_.

"Would you change that for her?"

Somehow even though my body was trying to start shaking, my voice remained smooth and even, "My face frightens people and having them react has gotten very tiring."

"So you would still live reclusively?"

"Is that not the way she was brought up?" my question had bite to it as my façade began to break down.

"Yes but..." he thought for a minute, "We always want more for our children than we ourselves had. Gustave wanted so much for Christine…"

But Christine wants you. Christine wants you, the small amount of hope that lived surrounded in the darkness of my mind cried out to be heard, rallying me to fight for her.

"Have you even asked Christine what she wants?"

He looked at me knowingly, "If I asked, I know the answer she would give. She is very impressionable and young and your powerful voice and unique appearance probably seem like a fairytale to her."

"What is it you want?" I was afraid. Me! The Deathbringer! Afraid. Afraid and tired of word games and the shaking was getting more pronounced.

"There are a few good men in my acquaintance who are looking for a wife…" my heart shuddered and my anger sharpened.

"You would parade her out like a horse for sale?" my voice was low and barely controlled.

"Oh dear me!" he waved his hand to dismiss my words. "When you say it like that it sounds terrible! No, No…but…if she were to meet them and speak with each of them in turn, perhaps have dinner with them…I would be content that she made a more informed decision instead of a necessary one." He sat back, he was done and I was a wreck. We were silent for a moment as I tried to think of something to dispute his reasoning. He was being reasonable. A few dinners with some high society gentlemen was hardly a punishment and it may help her grow, as Nadir put it.

He suddenly leaned close to me and his eyes glinted like he was the devil closing in to plant the seeds of doubt. "Have you not wondered if her immediate love for you was just convenient for her? She needs someone to take care of her, someone who is like her. Why not marry you?" his words poisoned me. "Would you not like to see her reject four other prime candidates in favor of you?"

"But she may not reject them all…" I said quietly.

"She may not but then…" he finished with a gesture as if to say, who cares then, she wasn't worth the trouble.

He had me. Curse him to the depths of hell along with me!

If she chose me over four other men with faces and names and estates then…well then I would stand before them all, unafraid and untouched by their jeers and insults. They would be meaningless to me because she had clearly chosen me over them. Their jeers should be meaningless to me already because I knew Christine loved me but he'd brought to life my insecurities and I couldn't shake his damn words. 'Convenient love'. What if that was true? What if she was in love with me simply because I was the first man to show interest? The first man to touch her and kiss her? What if our first outing as man and wife she looked at another man with a whole face and asked herself why she had settled for me? If I agreed with him on this, I could very well lose her. But then it would be for the best because she would be happy and I would know right away that her love was not pure. It could very well be that I only hypnotized her into feeling this way anyway.

I stood abruptly.

"You have won me to your side but I ask a few stipulations," my voice was shaky now and I was on a very fine edge. He rose slowly watching my hands shake. I clasped them behind my back. "I will wait no longer than a month, by the end of the year I wish to have her decision, even if it is you who brings it to me. I also require that a chaperone be present during these meetings, I will not have her attacked again."

He nodded, so pleased with himself, so pleased, "You are very reasonable in your requests…"

"If I were any more reasonable I'd be placing her on a silver platter with an apple in her mouth." I turned to leave but he spoke again.

"There is one more thing I must ask of you." I halted but didn't turn. Tremors were shaking down my spine and I wanted to get to Christine so she could calm them. How was I going to tell her what I've done? "Your voice is very compelling and your uniqueness is going to be difficult for any man to compete with…"

He trailed off and I wanted to tell him to hurry up before I fell apart.

"Perhaps it would be best if you kept your communiqués with Christine to a minimum. Let her really test these other men."

I turned to look at him, shocked, "You wish for me to not speak with her for the entire month?"

"You've had a whole weekend to win her over. I think that already puts you at an unfair advantage over my friends. And I can see she is quite taken with you, if you continued to meet with her then…well…then…"

"Then she might end up with me and you just couldn't stomach that, could you?"

His face flushed red, "That's not it at all…I merely want what's best for her…what her own father would have wanted…"

"And that means no monstrous looking reclusive men?" I spat out and turned away not wanting to harm him.

"Please Mr. Karan, I meant no offense." I whirled, entirely out of control.

"You meant no offense? And yet you come to my home and tell me I am not good enough for a girl who is not even your own daughter!" I felt like my body was going to fall to the ground and I needed to get out of here. "You have two weeks to set up these damn dinners of yours."

"But you said a month…"

"I changed my mind," I said through clenched teeth as they had begun to rattle together. "You are lucky I'm agreeing to any of this. Christine will be highly displeased with me for agreeing but she will be even more displeased with you when she discovers what else you have asked me for."

"If you could not tell her…" he began softly and my face contorted.

"You want me to tell her it was my idea?"

"Just please don't tell her that I asked you not to speak to her. She already seems angry with me and… I…I don't want her angry at me." He looked so sad but I was in no mood to care.

"Oh, but she can be angry with me because who cares about that…" my teeth were still clenched and I was two seconds from collapsing. "They are in the conservatory and I am in no condition to see Christine. Please excuse me."

I fled down the hall blindly and was half way to the stables before I realized where I was going.

I flung open Midnight's stall and leapt astride. With a hard slap of my hand to his rump we took of like a shot and I fisted my hands in his mane.

My heart hurt so much. I didn't know it could hurt this much. It was easier to be cold and unfeeling but Christine had made me feel so much in the last few days. She had surrounded me with warm good feelings and as they all melted away I was left dead and cold inside.

I hunched against the warm solid bunching muscle of my horse and wanted to weep. Why did I say yes? Why did I not tell him to frig off? Why? Why? Why?

She would never stay with me. The thought of it was ridiculous. Stay with a monstrous murderer? She would have to be insane!

Maybe she is, hope trilled in my ear and tears filled my eyes. So, now I'm hoping she is crazy so that she stays with me, chooses me?

There were voices screaming in my head, telling me I had done the right thing, telling me I was an idiot, telling me to go back to Christine, telling me to stop being such a baby. I clutched my head with one hand as a hard tremor almost shook me off my mount.

_Give in…_

One seductive voice topped all the others and I shuddered.

No. I can't. I won't.

_Give in…it's better here…_

"NO!" I screamed out loud against the evil in my head.

_I will take care of you…nothing hurts here…_

_Give in…_

My body shook violently and I was dismounted from my fast running horse. I slammed into the ground and rolled in an ungainly manner until I came to a stop on my back. I panted a few times as pain and tremors wracked through my body. It started to rain softly and I could hear Midnight still running somewhere.

_Give in to me…_

Yes, give in. So easy to do. So simple. No pain. No memory.

I gave in to the darkness in my head.

---

Christine

---

"Where is Erik?" I asked, forgetting to use formalities when Mr. DeChangy came in alone.

"He will return shortly," he looked pleased and Nadir sighed.

"He agreed with you," Nadir wasn't too surprised but almost resigned. I felt apprehension tingle up my back. Nadir had told me what Mr. DeChangy wanted and I had thought that Erik would never agree to it. I was his! He knew it. Didn't he?

My lips trembled and I looked to the doors willing Erik to walk through commandingly and whisk me away. Maybe that was his plan, to lie to Mr. DeChangy and we would run away tonight. I stared down at my hands dejectedly to listen with half an ear to the discussion of my immediate future.

"He asked only for a chaperone and a time limit. I knew I could make him see things my way," part of me wanted to jump up and strike Mr. DeChangy. What did he say to Erik to make him agree to this?

"My son may seem strong but he is of a fragile nature. How was he?" Nadir was very concerned.

"I noticed the tremors," Mr. DeChangy said very solemnly, "Is he quite ill?"

My heart started screaming Erik's name. Ill? He was ill?

"Only at times…" Nadir looked towards the door now as if hoping Erik would appear. I prayed that he would. I prayed that he was okay and that he would come back.

They discussed where I would live. Not at the De Changy home because of Raoul and not here because then Erik would have an unfair advantage, so back to the opera dormitory under Mme Giry's care. Fine with me. I'd go straight to Erik's home and convince him to run away with me. If I could find his home. I didn't have the first idea how to unlock the doors we'd passed through…

They discussed how I would meet the men and dinner seemed the easiest way. They discussed who could chaperone and Nadir offered but Mr. DeChangy thought it might remind me too much of Erik.

All of this only took a few minutes and then Mr. DeChangy said he must go to dinner himself.

"I look forward to you meeting my friends, Christine," he patted my arm and I wrenched away from him knowing he must have said terrible things to Erik to make him agree to this.

"I do not wish to meet any of your friends," I said angrily with tears glimmering in my eyes. I immediately reddened at my rudeness because he was attempting to be very congenial even though he was ruining my life.

"You only have to meet four nice young men and if you still want to after that, you may marry Erik." The thought made my heart flutter. I could wait just a little longer. I would wait forever for Erik.

I looked up at Mr. DeChangy. Apparently Papa had been friends with this man, so dear a friend that he only wanted the best for me. He thought Erik wasn't good enough so he wanted me to have choices. Silly though. Erik would always be my choice. He was beyond incredible in so many ways, everything in his arms felt way too good to ever give up and he needed me. I bit my lip and scowled a little so Mr. DeChangy would know I was unhappy still.

"I would like my chaperone to be Meg Giry, as long as her mother approves." I stood like a lady and smoothed down my garments. "There may as well be a point to these dinners. Perhaps one of your friends will like her?"

Nadir laughed out loud, "I tried to tell you what Christine's decision would be." He turned Mr. DeChangy to the door as he asked who Meg was and Nadir explained as they exited.

I turned quickly to the doors out to the garden and pressed my hands to the cold glass. He was out there. I knew it. Tears finally trailed down my face. He was alone and ill…

When Nadir came back I was still pressed to the door trying vainly to see him or feel him. I wanted to run after him but didn't know where he'd gone and it was dark out. So dark…

He touched me gently, "Let us go have dinner. Erik will return." I grabbed him as he pried me from the door.

"Is he sick?" my voice was high and I swallowed to fix it.

"He was taught to suppress strong emotion so he would be better at his…job." My mind whirled in circles. His job...killing people...

"What did they do to him?" my lips were trembling and I felt faint. Nadir held me tightly in his arms.

"Please Christine. He will be fine. He always is."

"But he's ill!" I wanted comfort but I wanted action and I sort of struggled in his arms.

"When he gets too emotional he has attacks of madness that he doesn't always remember," the words came out rushed and I stilled.

Attacks of madness. So he was crazy? I pulled away not wanting comfort any longer.

"As long as he keeps his emotions in check and doesn't work too hard and gets enough sleep he is fine. Though he told me he hasn't been sleeping lately," Nadir sighed and his love and concern for Erik were so apparent to me on his face. It reminded me of Papa and my heart cried out again.

The three of us would be such a happy family if only Erik would just come back.

"Come eat Christine, starving yourself won't help matters."

"Erik hasn't been taking his laudanum. I think he was afraid to leave me unattended…"

"I know, he told me. Come dear, he will return. Do not worry."

I let him sit me at the table and I ate not tasting the food as I prayed for Erik to come back to me.

Come back so I can hold you. Come back, my love.

The mantra repeated itself so many times in my head that I was a little wild-eyed as I sat to comb and braid my hair before bed but he still didn't come. Even if he returned now, he'd declined my invitation into my bed this evening. I wouldn't even know when he was home safe. I lay in bed tossing and turning, crying and dreaming fitfully until I was awake and my body was humming.

He was here.

My face was half buried in the pillow due to my thrashings and I decided to turn over and find him with my eyes when the blanket was suddenly gone. Cool air surrounded me seconds before he was on me. His hands were like manacles on my wrists and he roughly splayed out my hands, holding me down tightly with hands and body. He pressed me down into the bed and his lips brushed my ear as his voice came viciously.

"Miss me?"


	28. Darkness Stirs

---

Christine

---

"Miss me?" he whispered viciously in my ear and tears welled in my eyes.

"Yes," I croaked. He laughed and it was an ugly sound, broken and bitter, not at all like the laughter from this afternoon in the garden. "I always miss you when..."

"Don't!" he commanded harshly, "I am a vile ugly monster, unworthy of gentle thoughts and affection. I am a ruined twisted man who thinks of the vilest things," he breathed hotly along my neck and then bit me where my neck and shoulder sloped together. I shuddered and almost sobbed at the same time because it hurt me but all I could think of was wanting to bite him this afternoon. "The hands that hold you down have killed multitudes of men, wrought the life from their bodies, been awash in their blood. How does that make you feel?"

"Erik…" I started but he jerked my hands farther apart, holding them tighter.

"No, don't speak that name, if fact I don't want you to speak at all…" his voice was so low and evil that tears slipped from my eyes unbidden. I'd heard this voice before and it had scared me then but now with his body trapping mine to the bed, I wasn't really scared. It felt too good to have him back. His malformed lips brushed my ear again as his voice came menacingly soft. "Do you know what I dream of doing to you? Do you know what vile men think of when they've been deprived female companionship? Do you want to know what a man and woman coupled looks like?" he licked my ear from base to tip. "Do you want to know what it feels like?" He rocked his body against mine and we both shuddered. "I want to know, Angel. I need to feel you around me and I want to feel you grasping at me as I take pleasure from you." His hands moved like he wanted to trail them down my body but didn't want to let go of my wrists. His grip on them tightened, "I could so easily rip this nightgown from your body," he growled in my ear, "And hold you down and take your innocence right now so that you will belong only to me! Maybe if I fuck you no one else will want you and then you will have to be mine for all of eternity. I can not survive any other way, you are MINE and you will belong only to ME."

The pillow was wet with tears beneath my face and I wanted to reassure him and say 'I do belong to you' but he had commanded I not speak. Was this to be our first time together? Sullied by his anger and my fear? He had to know I wanted him or was he really like another person when he got this angry and he couldn't think straight? Was he lost within his own mind? Suddenly his hands left my wrists and a tearing sound filled the room. The nightgown was flimsy material and did not put up much fight. Then his hard chest was pressed to my bare back and I moaned softly into the pillow at the feel of his half naked body pressed to mine.

His hands once more shackled my wrists and his mouth fell upon my spine. He started at my neck and worked his way to mid back, licking, biting and dragging his teeth in ruthless lines. It was painful but somehow it also felt so good to have his mouth on my body that he was pulling noises from my mouth as well as tears from my eyes. The noises sounded a lot like whimpers and I began to swallow them for fear that he would think they were scared whimpers. As soon as I did he was back at my ear.

"Not scared anymore?" he said harshly, proving me right. "Have you decided to endure it?" his voice dripped with scorn. But what did I do, except love him and expect him to believe it? He's the one who agreed to Mr. DeChangy's ridiculous request! Anger flared in response and I began to struggle indignantly against him and he suddenly had to try a lot harder to hold me down.

My wrists screamed in protest as we wrestled with each other. His grip was like iron and I grabbed at anything I could, half tearing the sheets from the bed as we struggled. I tried to fling him off by bucking my body but he was much too strong for that to work. I tried to get on my knees hoping for more leverage but he quickly pushed my legs apart, sliding between them and when he did I stopped.

I could feel his attraction for me straining against his pants, pressed to my bare buttocks.

He chuckled in that evil manner, "Given up so easily?" he mocked me and I realized, Yes. I give up. Why am I fighting him anyway? I've imagined him having me before just not like this, not this rough. But maybe I could change that…

I went limp and then slowly and carefully turned my head so I could look at him. His hair was damp and tousled and a dark light resided in his eyes. In the semi darkness of the room his pale skin glowed, his face looked as if it had been torn away and his lips quivered as if ready to cry or sneer.

Attacks of madness, Nadir had said, and looking at his face and his eyes like this, he certainly looked crazy. His beautiful grey eyes brewed like a restless storm with the turbulent deep dark frightening waters of his soul. Maybe I was supposed to save him and save his soul...

"Yes," I spoke softly, the word heavy with weight, like a vow. I closed my eyes and just followed my animal instinct which had me arching beneath him like a cat and I pressed my backside up against his throbbing manhood. He froze like a statue, only his wild eyes moved and then I was flat against the bed again, his malformed lip on my cheek.

"What?" his one word was like a whip stroke stinging my skin.

"I'm yours to have however you choose," my voice only wavered slightly. I felt his lips quivering as his grip on me loosened. I rubbed my face against his lips as if he was kissing me softly. "Erik…" I breathed warmly on his face and tried to turn in his embrace but he pushed me away roughly and scrambled off the bed.

"That's sick," his voice quavered and my whole body flushed with embarrasment. I lay still for a few seconds gathering my courage and then I sat up, both my wrists protesting the weight. I clutched what was left of my chemise to my chest, my back and buttocks bare as I brought my knees up protectively. I curled into a tight ball not because I was afraid of him and his rough advances but because I now felt very dirty for being okay with them.

He'd turned away from me, leaning on the window frame like he wanted to tear it from the wall. His muscles seemed strung so tight that they looked like they might pop forth from his skin. His breathing was labored and his breath appeared and disappeared on the window pane.

Attacks of madness.

Well, I'd seen them before. Never this prolonged and never this violent but I'd seen the wild turbulence in his eyes a few times now. I should be frightened but I wasn't. I'd been afraid enough the very first time but I wasn't afraid of him anymore. Even in this blackest of moods, even though I was not sure I would emerge unscathed, even though he may be crazy, I still loved him. I knew it in every inch of my body. He was still my Erik and he needed me to guide him home.

---

Erik

---

I was hollow.

I was shot out of the darkness too quickly and felt discombobulated. I stared out the window at nothing while my body went wild. My heart was trembling it was beating so fast and hard. My cock was throbbing for her and my head was screaming in multiple voices at me but I floated hollow above it all.

'I'm yours to have however you choose' her sweet, sweet voice giving me permission to plunder her had ripped me from the all consuming comfort of the darkness. I wasn't sure of everything that had transpired and how long I had been out of control but my body could remember the feel of her rolling herself underneath me in invitation.

My nails bit into the wood frame and I heard a slight creak of strain. My body was pulsing at me to go back to her and finish what I'd started but I squeezed the wood to keep myself at the window. I told myself, over and over, it was sick just to stop myself from doing it but it wasn't sick. She was what I wanted and needed with every ounce of my being. I squeezed my fingers tighter and tighter until the wood gave, breaking off in my left hand and stabbing me with sharp pieces.

She gasped behind me; maybe because I'd managed to break the frame, maybe because of the blood that oozed from my hand and slid down the wall, maybe she realized it was only luck that had kept me from breaking the bones in her wrists. Her wrists...

I glanced at her quickly to see what kind of damage I'd done and the sight stilled me to the core. Vivid red marks were already spreading on her delicate wrists, her chemise hung from her shoulders, useless in its state, leaving the graceful curve of her shoulders completely bare except for her long braid. Her arms held her legs tight to her body, her face wet with tears, in the middle of the torn apart bed.

'I'm yours to have however you choose.' But not like this...

I felt a tingling down my neck and my breath shook out of me and I was suddenly shaking violently. I tried to grab the frame again but my dexterous hands failed me and I slammed face first into the window and then crumpled to the floor. She said my name I think but my back arched tightly and then released only to do it again and again as the muscles over the rest of my body spasmed sporadically.

My senses all failed me.

Sight. Sound. Touch. I thought I was dead but there were flashes of light and snippets of sound. I lost count of time. I couldn't breathe. I wasn't breathing. I was thrown around in body and mind for what felt like an eternity. I thought I was in hell but there was no concept of death or life until all was silent and dark again.

All I could hear was my own labored breathing and it was so loud in my ears that I felt like I'd been screaming just a second ago. I lay still feeling sweat cool on my skin and took stock. Once you wake a few times from a beating induced coma you learn to let your senses and your body come back slowly, at their own pace. But a beating...

It had been years...

My hand, my left hand hurt but raising my arm seemed to require gargantuan effort. I stared at the ceiling as it came into focus. It was like a memory book flipping in front of my eyes. I was in Nadir's home, in one of the bedrooms. The window frame had a chunk of wood torn out from it and blood had dripped down the wall.

Oh! My mind felt lazy and detached. Did I do that? Is that why my hand hurt?

I heard a timid entreaty, "Erik?"

Christine? I rolled over sluggishly and lifted my head though my body screamed in protest and my head bobbed like a buoy in the water. My vision blurred at the edges and my voice only croaked when I tried to say her name.

I blinked at her confused. She was holding her torn chemise to her chest kneeling a few feet away. Her face was stricken and bruises were blooming, darkening on her wrists like twin shackles. I could see a bite mark on her neck and strands of hair had come loose from her braid and she looked wild and was mostly naked. My eyes widened.

I remembered licking her ear, ripping her nightgown, pressing my chest to her warm, soft smooth back. It all came back swiftly, slamming me against the wall as I scrambled away from her, moving way too much too soon and I grabbed my head as it swirled and darkness threatened to take me over again.

But it lied to me! It said it was better in the darkness but it wasn't! It was horrible and depraved and mindless and monstrous…

I fought to stay conscious.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a trembling voice.

Am I okay?

Am I??

"Should I fetch Nadir?" laughter crossed my mind. Nadir would just ice this cake perfectly. He would surely keep me from her and I sort of wanted that so I would never be able to touch her again but no….

I didn't ever want to be away from her. I wanted to pull that shard of a chemise out of her hands and finish what we'd started. I could be gentle. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not.

I looked down at my hands and tried to pull some of the wood from the base of my thumb. I was incredibly weak but at least I wasn't shaking. Blood welled from the holes and I looked around blearily for a towel or some scrap of cloth. Where was the rest of my clothing?

"Wait!" Christine got up quickly and ran to her wrapper, which was draped over the chair. I looked up briefly at her shapely legs and watched her smooth rounded bottom bounce as she ran and I groaned, covering my face with my bloody hands.

She was back in a few seconds dropping the remnants of her chemise in front of me, still tying the wrapper around her sleek figure.

"Might as well use it for your hand," she was so calm? I just assaulted her and she was trailing her fingers over my hair comfortingly, sliding beside me.

"Are you okay now?" I raised my face from my hands, confused and still feeling some after affects. I felt slow. She was not afraid of me...

"Oh Erik," she looked exasperated and got up again quickly to fetch some water. She knelt before me again and dipped a corner of the chemise in the water. She wrung it out and reached for my face gently. She wiped the blood I'd smeared on my face, tsking adoringly and tucking my hair behind my ear. I must have looked like some macabre mask of a man with blood on my deformed face but she just sat there and wiped my face and then cleaned my hand too, pulling out a few more pieces of wood. Then she grasped the chemise with her teeth and tore it some more. She proceeded to wrap a long strip around my hand very efficiently, like she'd done this before. I tried to remember to ask her about that later when I could speak properly. She tucked the ends in and then kissed the bandaged palm.

"All better," she murmured as if I was a child. Her eyes rose to mine and they were so gentle, so loving, so rich. Her essence rose out of her eyes like a glow from a candle. She was my light, my steady light in the darkness. She reached for me slowly as if in no rush at all and she looked so angelic in the creamy white wrapper. She glowed in the darkness of the room and I moved into her safe embrace with longing. It wasn't the hunger of my body that drew me into her arms, but the hunger of my soul.

_No she hates you…you hurt her… _

The darkness rallied as if from behind a heavy curtain and I barely heard it. I let her pull my head to her shoulder and coo and pet me and I nuzzled into her like a child seeking comfort from the monster.

She smelled like home to me. Her scent had changed slightly after coming to stay with me. Before she always smelled like citrus fruit, clean, fresh and innocent but now she smelled like roses. Still clean and fresh smelling but with a womanly appeal that mingled perfectly with the musk of her skin. I inhaled deeper, putting my arms as firmly as I could around her to draw her closer. It was like I'd never held her before. Every second was vivid and exquisite in its detail. I knew I would always remember this moment.

I pulled away feeling light headed and bittersweet. Though she may forgive me my madness she still was meeting with other men. The fact remained that she could choose one of them. It was only sensible for her to pick the best one and I wasn't sure I ever made a list with Best in the title.

I took one of her hands in mine and examined her wrist. I could imagine no future where she would not choose another man. The bruises were going to be very dark and in the imprint of my hands. If my back wasn't already riddled with marks I would flog myself for this. Maybe I should anyway.

"I bruise easily," she patted my hands and extricated her wrist. "You should see some of the corset bruising I get when…" I looked up morosely and she trailed off as if surprised she'd kept talking.

"Oh my love," she folded into me this time, muffling her voice in my neck. "Why didn't you tell me you were ill? Does it hurt you? Can you talk at all?"

"Yes," I replied to prove it, leaning back against the wall as fatigue rolled over me.

"Oh I wasn't sure, you have not said a word…" she sounded very worried. Had I really not said a word? I'd thought we were conversing. I cleared my throat.

"It does not hurt per see. What exactly happened to me?"

"You dropped to the ground and flailed, like your body was out of control and then you lay so still after…" she swallowed hard and burrowed closer to me. "Should we get a doctor?"

"No," I was quick to answer as my eyes closed, "Just give me some time to recover fully. I feel so weak…" Her hands tightened on me.

"From now on you are taking your laudanum and sleeping properly," she ordered firmly. "What would you have done if you'd had that attack outside, alone?" she was angry at me but I was close to losing consciousness again and her voice faded in and out. She was lecturing me. I heard the word ridiculous and love.

Yes, I thought, that was us, before a quiet peaceful light swallowed me.

---

Christine

---

I felt his body go slack and pulled back quickly to take his face in my hands. My heart squeezed but he was breathing. I held him for a moment with my eyes tightly shut, his arms lay useless at his sides, his head a lead weight. I learned something else about love tonight. It wasn't always good and easy. Sometimes love will hurt you.

I gently helped him down to the floor and then retrieved a pillow and the blanket. The little girl inside me wanted to run and get Nadir with the foolish hope that he could wave a magic wand and make Erik better. The woman in me knew better. Then explanations would have to be made for the state of the room and me. Erik would be taken away and a doctor sent for, another person to explain to how the attack had happened.

When he'd spoken in a rough voice that I didn't recognize, he didn't tell me to run for help so I hoped it meant he didn't need it. He only said he needed time so I brought the blanket and pillow and curled up next to him. I couldn't lift him to the bed and eyeing it didn't want to take the time to fix it anyway. I covered both of us with the blanket and started tracing his slackened cheek with my hand. I'd never seen him asleep before.

He looked very young and vulnerable. I studied his malformed face in the darkness, memorizing each crooked line and tracing it lovingly with my fingertips. I traced the arch of his brow and the straight regal nose, his crooked torn lip and the round bottom one. My eye caught the darkening skin of my wrist and I looked at that too. I could feel the sting of broken skin down my back but none of it really hurt. It didn't hurt anymore than say, stubbing you toe or the ache after a long day of dancing. I would be fine but I had a feeling Erik would not feel fine when he saw everything in the daylight.

His face twitched like he was dreaming and I was back to studying his face as I prayed he was having good dreams. I could see the slightly reddened lump where his forehead hit the window. Thank God it didn't break. I shuddered at the thought, remembering how his body had contorted in every direction, trying to rip itself apart and then the perfect stillness. Tears began to flow and I wept beside my comatose love. I wept for him and for our difficult situation, for the pain I knew he would feel when he woke, not just physically but more emotionally. I wept and prayed for his soul and for our impossibly strong connection. I sang to him quietly and lay sleepless and praying still, my tears finally abated, soothed by the steady breath of my destiny.

---

Nadir

---

I lay awake some nights replaying memories lost many years ago, faces lovingly remembered. Some nights I read knowing sleep would elude me but tonight I could not sleep or read and it was because of Erik. My room was the furthest down the hall but I waited to hear sign that he had returned safely. He unknowingly resided in a large part of my heart and I would always pray for his safety and happiness.

I could remember the first moment I saw him as if it was yesterday, the way he gathered himself off the dirty floor once the bindings were cut from his hands and feet. His build, height and hair had struck me as achingly familiar, too familiar with my son Reza so recently deceased and I'd turned away before seeing his face, not able to look any longer at a boy that so resembled my dead son. But then he had spoken, "Merci Monsieur," his exquisite voice lured me to turn in fascination and he raised his eyes from the ground. I staggered back as if struck. The grey eyes staring at me were exactly my son's and they hardened at my reaction but otherwise didn't flinch. Only then did I see that under the dirt and bruises on his face was a gross deformity and I was shamed by my action. To remedy it I told my men to take the other boys to the station and offered the reincarnation of my son a home. Part of me railed against the madness of it, this is not your son, it can't be your son, you saw his dead body, you touched his dead flesh, you committed it to the ground beside Rooheeky…this was not Reza, it was just some orphan, not even a Persian boy, a French orphan…but his voice was an exquisite instrument of perfection and his eyes…

It was impossible for me to look into them and feel nothing. Neither could I look at his face and feel nothing. He was painfully thin and looked like he'd been severely mistreated. The poor boy…

And so we made a simple life together. I don't think he ever fully trusted me and the one day that could have changed everything I'd taken the coward's way out. All I could think of standing before the Shah was, he would outcast me if I denied him his request. I would never survive his displeasure and I would never see the graves of my family, never look upon the place where I asked Rooheeky to marry me or stole my first kiss with her or first held my child in my arms or where I watched Reza run before he lost the use of his legs. So as a coward I walked away, leaving the only other person I'd ever called family to the devious hands of the Shah. If I'd known what they were going to do to him I think I would have personally burned my own house to the ground.

That first day nearly a year and a half later when I was invited to come and see Erik in action I hadn't known. I couldn't have imagined. I sat triangulated from the Shah and his men, all of us positioned just so around the pit. Usually punishments took place in the pit and my heart shuddered. Did I leave Erik to his death?

He came out with only a loincloth to cover his achingly thin body, riddled with even more marks, his face devoid of any mask or emotion. I could see ligature marks on his wrists where they surely hung him from so they could apply those carefully laid marks down his back. He carried a Punjab lasso in one hand.

"For the pleasure of the Shah," his voice rang clear and beautiful from the depths of the pit and then the men came pouring in. I'm sure half of them were drug crazed and maybe they all had reasons besides loyalty to the Shah to throw themselves at Erik but the massacre was grossly one sided. It seemed without any effort at all that Erik snapped their necks with that lasso. Each flick making me twitch in my seat but I didn't dare remove my eyes from the ghastly sight, for I knew I was the show today. Erik efficiently killed each and every man, discarding the lasso when they got close enough and resorting to his hands. He was deadly and moved with a grace that was otherworldly and magnificent to watch, you could almost forget he was killing people. Blood flew as his fist connected with a man's face but he was untouchable as he waded through the men. The sickening crack of the last neck echoed eerily in my ears as Erik looked up and bowed.

"For the pleasure of the Shah," he said again. He saw me because his eyes flicked over me but nothing showed on his face. There was no echo of life sparkling in those eyes. It was as if they were my son's dead glazed eyes all over again, except this time I had killed him myself. He bowed to me and then walked back to the door he'd entered from, leaving me feeling cold with my betrayal.

The Shah laughed and clapped me on the back, "Cheer up, Daroga. You brought me the greatest gift anyone has in years." I couldn't summon the appropriate response. What had I done? What had my cowardice done? That night I set a course of action that would ultimately lead to my arrest. As the Chief of Police I had multiple resources and I found out everything I could about what they'd done to Erik and what they continued to do. I was only made to watch a few of his performances. Once, they had him go up against a lion with only a blade as a weapon but after a few bloody minutes that fight was also over. The Shah clapped enthusiastically and gestured proudly to the audience that grew with every victory.

"The Deathbringer," he announced loudly, "Has cheated death once again. Show him your appreciation!" I clapped as best I could with shaking hands and Erik's eyes rose to mine. I imagined I could see him trapped inside himself screaming.

Eventually I was brought before the Shah. He eyed me silently for a few minutes and then, "Why do you invade my home with questions of the Deathbringer. What is he to you?"

My heart screamed 'He is my son brought back by Allah' but I lied.

"He is nothing to me your grace."

"He was a servant in your home?"

"Yes," I couldn't say another word because I suddenly knew my life was in danger regardless of my answers.

"You have served me well for many years Daroga but you grow old and the questions in your eyes anger me. You will kill him for me or he will kill you for me. Either way I am content but I do not wish to watch it." He gave me a wickedly sharp blade and I was thrown into a dark cell. I felt around blindly for a moment and then Erik's voice rang off the walls.

"Confess to me what you have done to deserve the death I bring," the line sounded wearily repeated if properly ominous.

"I have done nothing, Erik," I said proudly. I couldn't see if my voice affected him in the inky darkness but he was beside me instantly, grabbing my arms.

"No," he cried, tormented, "Not you!" I grabbed hold of him too, to shake some sense into him.

"No, not me," I said determined. I was after all still Daroga and not without my resources. Him and I escaped that night and fled into the darkness like criminals. For two and a half days we ran and walked, not sleeping or eating, barely talking even until I could not go on. I was not young and was holding him back.

"You must go on without me," I urged, pressing all of my money and family jewels into his hands. I knew it would take care of him for a long time, I only hoped it was enough.

"They will catch you," he tugged on me like a child and in that moment, seeing the concern in his eyes and hearing it in his voice I felt the absolution of Allah wash over me. If I gave my life for his I would be forgiven for my cowardice…

I sighed and turned from the gardens to stare at my empty bed.

They didn't take my life though. They let me rot in prison, beaten and starved and all but forgotten. But I felt I deserved everything they inflicted upon me. It was only fair I had a glimpse of Erik's torture. At least they left me my mind...

The house was quiet and peaceful around me and I'd yet to hear anything that might suggest his return. I conjured the memories of better times, Erik's masked face when he surprised me in my box before the performance of Aida. He'd nearly given me a heartattack but the relief I'd seen on his face had comforted me before he shut off the emotion in his eyes. The night he finally showed up for dinner with a hesitant look on his face, the night I showed him the piano I bought and he looked at me with confusion and said, 'When did you learn to play?' I'd laughingly told him it was for him which only further confused him, 'I already have a piano,' he'd said. 'It's for you to play when you're here, Erik'.

Of course that then led to my servants thinking he was some type of devil who was trying to suck out their souls...

And now, I had to share him. After all of our trials, him and I finally at a point of friendship with a familial quality and a woman falls in love with him. I was jealous of Christine tremendously. Jealous of the ease with which she could touch him and talk to him. He was my son and he barely let me close. But her...

She could touch him however she wanted and follow him around like a puppy. My face suddenly warmed. Not that I wanted to touch him in the same manner she did. That was just disgusting. But hug him and pat him on the back and do all those small fatherly gestures that lets a man know his father loves him and is proud of him. She'd told me to just tell him but I suppose even after everything, I was still just a coward.

I sighed and pushed away from my post at the window when suddenly the silence was filled with the sounds of a struggle. I walked as quickly as I could to my door but stopped myself as the noises stopped; my mind filled with images of how those struggling, cloth slithering sounds could be made.

I warmed again and tried not to think of the young lovebirds consummating their love. I couldn't be jealous that Erik had found a woman to love him. He needed someone to brighten his days. He needed happiness in the worst kind of way and Christine was so fresh and happy that I knew she was the perfect girl for him, besides the fact that she was hopelessly in love with him. But because I'd brought up Erik's hypnotic abilities they probably both questioned the validity of that love. Damn fool I was! Would I never do right by him? Was this my punishment for the gift of my son's return? I sat back down in bed and heard another struggle. This time it was louder, limbs and hands slapped the wood floor and my face reddened as it went on for a few minutes. When silence descended once more I slid into bed and pulled the pillow over my face.

I was embarrassed that I'd heard them but I was glad that Erik was home. He didn't call this home but I was hoping that with Christine to think of he would one day call it home and leave those dank cellars behind.

I waited for sleep to descend and tossed around in bed for awhile more before Christine's beautiful voice rang softly through the walls. She was weeping as she sang and it sent chills down my back.

"In your eyes, are my secrets, that I've never shown you.

In my heart, I feel, I've always known you.

In your arms, there's a comfort, that I never knew.

You're what I've been waiting for,

There's no one like you.

Sure as the sunrise, pure as a prayer.

You fashioned hope right out of thin air.

Innocent as a newborn, in a world so frightening.

It's as if my world's been struck by lightning.

Every dream I abandoned, seems it could come true.

I believe in miracles,

There's no one like you."

It was impossible to stop the tears that fell that night. Why was she crying? Why did she sound so sad and lost? Had Erik hurt her even as he tried to love her?

I pressed both pillows over my head and wished, prayed for sweet slumber. No more memories. No more of this night.

---

Erik

---

I cracked my eyelids at the early dawn and groaned. I felt like hell. My head throbbed dully and my hand throbbed sharply. I remembered last night and my heart quaked in my chest. Christine...

A blanket was carefully tucked around me and a pillow was under my head even though I lay on the floor. I pushed up, testing my wellness and I heard a quick rustle of fabric. I quickly looked around to find her. She was half dressed, a corset and underskirts on but no dress on top and no chemise to cover the creamy mounds of her breasts. Her hair was loose and glorious around her face and love for her swelled within me.

I stood quickly, incredibly embarrassed by my assault on her, by my sudden attack and subsequent helplessness, and her having to care for me, which she did exceptionally well, happiness trilled through me but I squashed it. I couldn't even remember everything that I'd done and said to her last night. How was I to apologize for things I couldn't remember?

She just stared at me, not knowing what to do and not coming towards me, as if she was frightened immobile by my sudden active state and anger stirred through me. I suddenly didn't want to be embarrassed or hurt or apologetic or loving in front of her. But anger I was always allowed.

"Do you mind not parading yourself in front of me?" I said coldly, about to add that I may just have her and to hell with propiety when I recalled more of last night's events and swallowed hard. I knew now that if I pushed us to that edge she would pull us over.

"Don't speak to me like that," she whispered hurt, as she covered her chest with her hands and I saw the black and purple handprints around her wrists. My mouth opened in disbelief as she continued, "I can't find a dress that covers all of it."

All of it. All of my abuse on her body. My anger fell flat.

"I am so sorry, Christine," I started towards her and she crossed her arms under her breasts angrily, her eyes narrowing.

"For what?" she pressed.

"For what?" I echoed, incredulous. "Look at what I did to you, my love. It's monstrous, evil doesn't even begin to…"

"STOP IT!" her voice was shrill and loud. I'm sure everyone in the house heard her and I stopped wide eyed. She stomped toward me and I gentlemanly kept my eyes from her heaving bosom. "I don't want an apology for last night," she slapped my chest. "I don't need one for last night. This," she held up one wrist as exhibit A, "Doesn't hurt at all, at least not anymore than a crack from Mme Giry's cane and I willingly go back for more of that every day of the week!" She flung her hands down to her sides,"What I want an apology for is the way you just spoke to me like…like…" her lips trembled and she turned away pulling her unbound hair unconsciously over her shoulder. If she was thinking she probably wouldn't have done that because in doing so she revealed the marks on her neck and back. Impressions of my teeth rode down her spine like I'd left my stamp on her body even if she wasn't officially mine. A sick black part of me liked those marks and my body stirred as I recalled the noises she made as I bit her. I was so twisted...

I locked my own thoughts away, wanting to think of only Christine. I cupped her shoulders gently and was glad she didn't flinch at my touch. I pulled her back against my chest.

"I am truly sorry for what I said," my words sincere. She didn't deserve me talking to her like that. She deserved so much better.

"It's not what you said," she sighed, "It's me. It's how I feel…" she sniffed. "I feel like a whore," she finished quietly and I held her harder to me.

"You are not a whore, you did nothing…" my voice faded. She did nothing but offer herself to me and I declined like some kind of idiot.

But she did offer herself to me. I tested my theory.

"You feel like this because you want me?"

"Want," she laughed, just one exhalation of air, "Doesn't seem like a strong enough word." It was remarkably like what I had been thinking yesterday in the garden with her and I turned her slowly to face me with awe and love on my naked face.

"To feel desire is to be human," I tried to console her but her brow furrowed.

"But…" she blushed rosily and looked away. "You don't understand."

"Then tell me," I asked gently, turning her face back to me. She searched my face as if looking for an answer and then blushed even more and cast her eyes away again. She was as red as a tomato and refused to look at me.

"Tell me," I said again because now I was damn curious as to what had her turning such shades of red from breast to hairline.

She started slowly, "You bit me and…" I interrupted.

"It was crude of me to do so, people do not usually do such things…"

She turned away and dropped into the chair with a quiet moan, throwing herself on the powder table, "Now I feel even worse. I AM a whore."

I knelt beside her quickly, "Stop this!" I said sharply, "I will not permit you to speak of yourself in such a manner."

She turned her head and looked at me through her curly hair and her lips curled up the tiniest amount, as my breath caught. "I like it when you're protective of me," the smile faded though and she groaned again covering her face.

"Why do you feel worse? It was a horrible vile thing that I did," suddenly she was back up, with wide eyes, and covering my mouth with her hand.

"You are not helping," she said earnestly.

I was thoroughly confused, muddled, still in pain and needing to wash, dress my wound, dress my body, eat, drink some water and find out what had transpired last night but Christine was hiding her face in her hands on the verge of tears.

"You won't like me anymore if I tell you," she was almost sobbing.

"Christine," I took her hand, "Surely you know all the worst there is to know about me and you've experienced most of it as well." She looked up sharply but I continued. "There is nothing that you could say that would make me turn from you. Nothing."

She sighed hugely and her eyes rolled to the ceiling, closing in resignation, "I liked it." When I, shocked, had nothing to say she wrenched her hand away. "SEE! I am sick just like you said! A proper lady would never…"

"Christine!"

"Enjoy something like that and she…"

"CHRISTINE!" I practically had to shout, grabbing her shoulders to get her to stop. "You are not sick!"

"But you said last night that I…I…" her lips trembled and tears wet her eyes and I hated myself just a little bit more.

"I had to say something terrible or I would have given in to you."

Her eyes widened, "You…you don't want me anymore?"

"What? NO, I mean Yes! I mean…" I cupped her face and brought our faces together. I closed my eyes as I rubbed noses with her and her breath feathered lightly over my face. "I will always love you and want you, my angel. It was horrid of me to say that to you when giving in would have been so much better and so much more…satisfying." I nuzzled her face lovingly, "I wanted you with every fiber of my being but I couldn't…I couldn't let our first time together be so violent. As much as we both may have wanted it, can't you see how terrible it would have been if I had injured you in my…spirited hunger?"

She relaxed and her hands slid over my shoulders, tracing some scars gently, "It's still sick that I enjoyed the biting." She mumbled and I groaned. I pulled her off the chair and onto my lap into my arms, burying my face in the side of her neck.

"You think I didn't enjoy every second of your body beneath mine?" my lips wanted to nibble at the tender flesh of her neck but I'd already left my marks there. Instead I continued to whisper in her ear and hold her tight to me. "Every breath that I took was the most painfully excited breath that I had ever taken. It may not be what most people do for pleasure but God it felt good to bite you." I hoped my brutal honesty would convince her, her feelings were okay. Her body trembled as if with laughter and she whispered.

"I wanted to bite you yesterday but…I thought it was strange."

"Next time you feel like biting me, you just go ahead and bite," I murmured into her hair. "If you want to do anything to me, just do it, don't question yourself, don't feel uncertain, anything you…" I suddenly had a revelation and my mind went oh! I pulled back to look in her eyes, "You love me!" I said quietly and she looked exasperated.

"Haven't I been telling you that?"

I slowly traced her cheek and her mouth in awe of my stupidity. "You really love me, just as much as I love you," I said softly. "You trust me in anything..." my innocent moment of clarity was darkened by the thought of my powerful hypnotic abilities. She noticed the change in my face.

"What?" she questioned, "What did you just think of?"

"Nothing," I lied, twirling a curl around my finger wondering how I would ever live without her if she chose one of those men.

"Don't lie," she squirmed away, "Your face shuts down when you think of something unpleasant. What is it?" she knelt in front of me, her breasts resembling pale juicy fruits sitting on a corset tray.

I felt like burying my face in her bosom or maybe pouting but tried to be a grown man and let both those ideas roll off me. I'd already told myself once that she didn't need to hear me sniveling about my insecurities so I didn't intend to tell her the truth right this moment. "Just remembered that you aren't really mine yet."

"Hmmm, I forgot I was mad at you for that," then she slapped me on the bare chest. "That's for being stupid!"

"What?" I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Who's fault is it that I'm not yours yet?" well I haven't asked her to marry me yet so I suppose it was my fault but that just makes me…stupid.

"Fault?" I am not smart though when it comes to Christine, especially when she looks as delectable as she did right this moment.

"Yes fault Erik!" she huffed and got up to stomp around some more. "You are the one who agreed to Mr. DeChangy's outrageous," there was arm flinging, "request! You could have told him no. Nadir told him no, I told him no but you…" she pointed at me and then her face contorted through love, anger, fear and sorrow and she continued stomping with a toss of her hair. "And then you fly off," more arm flinging, "With no explanation, leaving us to clean up the mess, and then I find out you are ill and you are gone and…and…"

Suddenly she rushed back to me and flung herself at me, "Oh Erik. I was so frightened for you." She squeezed me until I could barely breathe, "Promise me you'll take better care of yourself. Promise me!"

I promised because I had to. My woman was enchanting.

"So…" she pulled away and sat back on the chair crossing her arms again, "Why did you agree with him?"

"It gives you a few choices."

She shook her head, "No, I already told you my choice so why did you agree with him?"

My brow furrowed, "Mr. DeChangy…" her hand shot up.

"I don't want to hear a reason that involves anyone but you. You agreed to this for you," she pointed, "And I want to hear why?"

Where did this forcefulness in her come from? I stood to pace as I gathered my thoughts.

"If you were to…"

"This better not be about me," she interrupted and I gave her a look to silence her.

"If you are finished?" I said drily arching a brow at her and she started to smile.

"You may continue."

"If you were to have dinner with a few other men, make it seem as if you were interested in finding a husband and then choose me over them, in front of all of them, I think it would be easier for me to assimilate myself into society and start a new life with you, regardless of how anyone looked at me." It sounded so stupid when I said it out loud. I cut a quick glance at her to see what she thought and a slow smile spread on her face.

"You don't have to change for me, Erik. I love you the way you are." Soft tender warmth filled me and I knelt before her, humbled that she would say such a thing.

"I want to. I want to be a better man for you. I want you to have everything good in this world." She ran her fingers through my hair.

"I already do," she whispered as her golden eyes shone with her love for me. I fell into them. Even after everything we'd just been through I was taken in so seamlessly by her.

"I bought you a ring you know?"

"When?" she looked delighted.

"Yesterday…before…" I shrugged and then took her hands in mine and gazed into her eyes. "When this nonsense is done, it's yours." My brain told me that was not a very romantic proposal but I couldn't think at the moment, I only needed to make my promise to her. "No matter what happens in the next two weeks know that I love you and want you," I growled that last part out and then cupped her face. "Know that my love for you will never change. Humor Mr. DeChangy and our lives after this will be gloriously simple and beautiful together. You only have to wait a short time…"

"I accept," she breathed out and I kissed her. It was a languid exploration of her mouth, a slow sensual promise of my undying devotion, for her to keep until we could make it official. I let myself bask in her glow for a few minutes, as if I had to store some of it within me and then broke the kiss reluctantly. Her eyes stayed closed as if she could still feel the effects of my kiss and then she pressed herself to me again, touching her tongue to my mouth, demanding more.

Time spiraled away as we lost ourselves in one another. It wasn't as frantic as a goodbye but it was bittersweet, more an 'I'll miss you while we're apart'. My hands roamed over her corseted torso wanting to feel her body one last time…

No! I roughly pulled her closer, dispelling the thought that this may be the last time. She would choose me. She would come back to me. I would not have it any other way.

As we searched for an outfit that would cover the marks I'd left on her body I realized I should warn her that I would not be seeing her for those two weeks. Well, she would not be seeing me but I doubted if I could stay away from her.

"Christine," I managed to get out and she looked over at me as she pulled on the elbow length gloves. The sun was spilling into the room and she glowed like an angel, bathing the surrounding air in golden light, my beacon in the dark and stormy seas of my mind. I couldn't say it. I didn't want to say it. Well he didn't say she couldn't see me, just no talking. I could work with that.

Not talking to her would actually be a good test for us. The scientist in me wanted to discover how truly drawn she was by my voice and music but I knew it would be a cruel experiment.

I drew her into my arms and kissed her temple and her nose and then her mouth, just an innocent press of my lips on hers. "Never forget how much I love you, ma chardonnerette. You are mine, but I am also yours, fully and completely," I whispered into her hair and then left quickly.

---

Nadir

---

When I heard their voices raise in argument at dawn's first light I hastily rose, dressed and made my way downstairs. I had no desire to hear their lover's quarrel though I let myself smile at the thought of Erik in a lover's quarrel.

I flipped open the paper and enjoyed my tea and waited for them to join me. Just knowing there were two people coming to join me made me happy. How many mornings in a month did I not bother with breakfast because sitting in this damn dinning room alone seemed pointless and ridiculous. I was just an old lonely pathetic man but maybe not anymore. I'd been suddenly gifted with another miracle, a joyful young girl, who happened to love my son...

If Erik would just smarten up and take what was already his...

Maybe I should give him some advice on standing up to Mr. DeChangy and telling him Christine was already spoken for...

She came in first, looking tired but smiling at me anyway. Her attitude was refreshing and endearing and if I'd had a daughter I would've wanted her to be like Christine.

"Erik came back safe last night," she said at the first lull after pleasantries, probably to ease my worry.

"I heard," was all I said and she blushed an atrociously dark shade of red. I stammered an apology.

"Oh Christine, I heard you singing and assumed it was to Erik…" though her pronounced blush made me wonder exactly what had happened last night.

She nodded without looking up, fiddling with a curl of hair, and I noted the gloves. This was the first time she'd ever worn some and my mind conjured images of what could have been happening during the struggling sounds. My own face infused with color and I was glad she was still avoiding my eye.

"He had an attack last night," she glanced up. "I thought you should know. Has he had them before?"

"An attack? What kind?" I sat forward.

"I don't know," she shook her head sadly, "It was awful. His body flailed on the ground like he couldn't control it and he passed out afterwards. I stayed by his side all night to make sure he kept breathing."

"He stopped breathing?"

"When his body…thrashed it didn't seem like he was breathing." My mind was churning with things I had found out long ago.

"A seizure then."

"See-jhur?" Christine repeated and I nodded.

"I found out he had them a few times when the Shah would…you do not need to hear the details, Christine, for they are appalling but if he doesn't take care of himself they could become a regular thing." He was too busy taking care of Christine to take care of himself. Her lips trembled but she looked determined.

"I made him promise me he would take care and I will make sure he does," she was firm and I thought if anyone could make Erik do anything it was this slip of a girl.

She poured herself some coffee and stirred in some cream and sugar with a furrowed brow.

"So," I changed topics not wanting to worry her about Erik's health but knowing I was going to have to talk to him. "I guess we are heading to the Opera House today."

"Are you coming too?" she seemed surprised and a small part of me wanted to make mention of a chaperone for the two of them but didn't want to embarrass her further. Instead I gave my actual reason for joining them.

"I thought I should ask Mme Giry personally about Meg being your chaperone."

"Oh," she giggled into her hand, "How did you like that idea?" she was grinning and all I could think was, stunning. I smiled broadly back at her.

"Very ingenious, did Erik like it?"

"I forgot to tell him that, and I forgot to mention I was going back to the Garnier," she sipped her coffee and her eyes slid away to the garden out the window. Her eyes took on a dreamy cast and I watched her for a moment and realized she was sleepily smiling at some thought or memory, quite in love with whatever she was seeing in her mind's eye.

I reached for my paper with a smile.

---

Erik

---

Cleanliness is a daily ritual to settle the mind and body, to ready it for battle. Even though most people only bathed once a week, or less, heaven forbid, I was prone to bathing nightly, or daily, or whenever I felt dirty, which was often. Years of living in a tiny cramped house where I was frequently locked in a closet or the root cellar, then a dirty cage, and then that wet cell where I was frequently covered in blood had left me always with the urge to scrub the past from my skin. The familiarity of my own body and scouring every inch of it also helped to calm my mind.

I tended my hand methodically and dressed sharply. I would return to the Opera and allow Christine to stay here. She would be safe here and I hoped Nadir petitioned for her to remain.

I looked at the perfectly made bed and my lips twitched. Two nights spent under this roof and not one in this bed. I pulled out the ring from under the pillow and stared at it for a few minutes, dreaming and then tucked it away.

I was having fleeting glimpses of last night, snatches of memory resurrecting themselves; chasing down Midnight, getting rained on, an angel in fitful sleep, her bare beautiful body beneath me. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. How I was able to resist her at the end I didn't know. Actually, the 'attack' probably saved her. I had to check my medical texts to see what was going on in this body of mine.

I picked up the mask that I'd retrieved from Christine and hestitated before putting it on. That was a first. I chuckled to myself and popped it into place.

As I twirled my cloak on I felt stronger, a little more sure of myself. I am Erik no longer. I am the Phantom of the Opera once more.

I thought it prudent to forgo breakfast formalities and hasten to my dark cave, where I could lick my wounds and purge through music and study my textbooks to find a cure for my madness. I stalked into the dinning room to say goodbye and Nadir looked over his paper at me. Christine was daydreaming staring out the window with the cutest little smile on her face.

Be still my heart…

Did I put that look there?

"She has been like this for," he checked his watch, "eight minutes." Nadir quirked an eyebrow at me and Christine started.

"Oh were you talking to me?" she asked politely and Nadir chuckled, pointing in my direction.

"No, I was speaking to Erik," she turned eagerly and her eyes sparkled at me. I saw her react to the mask but she let it go and her eyes darted down my body to take in my whole outfit. She seemed to like what she saw, grinning impishly from ear to ear.

It seemed whenever I saw her after an absence no matter how short she was even sweeter to behold. Perhaps a few minutes here would be okay.

Feeling reckless I gave her a rare smile and flopped into the seat across from her. The high neck of the dress covered the bites completely and the gloves lent her an elegant air though I fully knew why she was wearing them. My smile faltered and I rocked my chair onto the back legs as I contemplated a tincture to heal those bruises. Some myrrh and goldenseal…

"And now you are gone as well?" Nadir was amused with us I think. "Here I was glad of company and it would appear I have none," he chuckled lightly, pouring himself more tea.

"Lost in a medical reverie," I explained, "You now have my full attention," I assured him stipling my fingers in front of me as I slouched in my rakishly tilted chair.

He gave me a look, "Careful you don't break that chair."

I waved my hand impatiently, "Tell me what transpired last night after I had to leave."

"Well," he raised his teacup in thought, "Mr. DeChangy left shortly after you. We discussed chaperones and Christine came up with the perfect person," he winked at Christine and she giggled. "I am going to the opera to ask Mme Giry."

"I was planning to return. If you don't mind I'll join you."

"Join us," Christine piped up without looking up as she spread jam on a piece of toast.

"I beg your pardon," my traitorous eyes wandered her seated frame.

"Mr. DeChangy wants me to move back there. He thinks you have an unfair advantage if I stay here." I could tell she thought this was funny. Either way I had the advantage if only he knew.

"No matter what that man does, I already have the advantage," why did it sound so ominous when I said that? I stood slowly, it was time to make my exit. "The carriage is a little small for three people. I will find another way," I smoothly slid my chair back in place and it was as if no one had sat there. An unused place setting and an unused bed, perhaps I really am a ghost.

"Don't leave, Erik," Christine pleaded, standing as if to forcefully stop me. I smiled at her letting her see in my eyes that this was not goodbye. It would never be goodbye.

"Mademoiselle Daae," I bowed to her like I had so many times before, "It has been an absolute pleasure." I couldn't resist saying. "Nadir, come see me when you are done with Mme Giry." I gave him a salute and strode from the room before either of them could respond.

I hailed a passing cab and rode back to the opera lost in thought. What were we all going to do? These two weeks were going to be very trying for me and I was betting for her as well. I could not go without seeing her but how unfair for me to watch her all day and not let her see me at all. But I'd agreed to Mr. DeChangy's outrageous requests and now wished I could take it all back.

Christine was MY angel and she had accepted my proposal and everything that went along with it. Me, in all my monstrous crazy glory.

Already I was thinking about seeing her again and wondered if she was thinking about me. I groaned and dropped my masked face into my hands. These two weeks were going to suck.

**Author's note: The song Christine sings to comatose Erik is by Sarah Brightman and it is called, No One Like You. I actually had my sister sing that song during my wedding :)**

**Hope you all enjoyed the conclusion to the cliffhanger. Review and let me know what you thought!**


	29. Silence

**Author's note: Oh my, it feels good to be writing again. My computer died about a month ago and I apologize for the long wait for the next chapter. Much longer than the two weeks my characters will soon have to endure! A review I received urged me to shorten my chapters and I am all for that if it means getting out the next chunk for all my faithful readers :)**

**Just to remind you, Erik is back home in the Opera House, lamenting the next two weeks already...  
**

---

Erik

---

One week. That's all it took to change my life completely. Exactly seven days ago Christine had come to stay with me and I was forever changed by her light. Well, it had been affecting me for the last few months but I, being a dense male specimen, had been oblivious to her warm acceptance. I had love, which I never thought to experience, innocent touching acceptance and a woman who wanted me...

I shook my head to dispell those thoughts but damn if it didn't make my body harden just at the tiny thought of her. She was a perfectly made creature, radiant and smart and she wanted me...

A shiver ran down me and I turned my attention back to the text as I found the correct page.

'_Fits and convulsions consist of uncontrollable movements and spasms of the body. Sometimes loss of consciousness and/or bladder can occur...'_

Thank God that did not happen! Bad enough she had to hold me like a baby and tend my wounds. I was supposed to be taking care of her.

_'Can be treated with a variety of sedative medications...'_

Perhaps my regular doses of laudanum have been saving me the humiliation of these _fits._

_'Can be caused by sudden flashes of light, illness, injury, emotional stress...'_

I laughed out loud, emotional stress! I'd certainly had a lot more of _that_ with Christine in my life. I sobered dramatically. Is that what my problem was?

I stood to pace. Nadir had revealed yet even more about my past that I had never cared to know about. The Shah, being the sick bastard that he was, would beat me into convulsions for fun, once he discovered my ailment, and then leave me in my cell, blood soaked and with nothing to help recollect the last few hours. It was probably why much of my memories of those years were blurred, bloody and better left untouched in the back of my mind. I should be thinking of better things, like my angel. But then, I had been fine before she entered my life. Perhaps coldly indifferent to others but healthy otherwise. No memory stealing thrashings...

I still couldn't bring all the happenings of last night to my mind, I knew it wasn't all due to the seizure. Some of that time, I'd lost to the darkness, but I definitely didn't want to ask Christine exactly what I had done to her. I could remember the morning at least and the remembering put a vapid half smile on my face. Christine would be mine at the end of this, I would figure out what to do about my illness and we would live happily ever after.

That's how this would go. That was the only way it would go.

---

Christine

---

I sat in front of my powder table and combed out my hair. I had the white wrapper tightened around me because I didn't have anything else to wear to bed. I had purposely not thought about any of last night's happenings while on the way to the opera with Nadir. Instead he'd told me of some of the extravagant homes they'd built and how he'd found Erik here in Paris. When we pulled up to the opera house he kissed my hand very properly.

"Mlle Daae, I hope to see you again."

"You will," I said determinedly, resolving that no matter what occurred during these fourteen days, at the end I would be in Erik's arms with his ring on my finger.

I sighed and put down the comb. He'd left so abruptly this morning, no embrace or touch to leave me with. I didn't even know when I'd see him again and the thought hurt me. Only one short week ago I'd gone below with him, thinking it the strangest most wondrous thing I'd ever experienced, and now I wanted nothing more then to be down there again. I pulled back the sleeves of the wrapper to stare at the blackened bruises around my wrists. The left was worse than the right, a dark, menacing hand print on my body, while the right was more of a loose wide circulation of my wrist, if tremendously purple and scary looking. There was a part of me that liked the bruises. You are mine, they screamed at me. And I was his. The marks he'd left on my skin shackled me to him as surely as my heart did. The bite marks down my neck and back however, were a painful reminder of the darkness in him and of my own sin. The fact that I had enjoyed them had kept me up praying for most of the night but I also spent a large amount of the time making sure he was breathing, hoping he would wake and look at me and hoping he wouldn't wake just yet. I was so embarrassed for liking what he did. I needed to beg the lord for forgiveness but if he wanted to do it again...

I was a naughty, naughty girl and knew I was sick, never mind that Erik tried to tell me it was okay. He had been shocked by my admittance and no words he could utter would make me feel less then terrible about my sinful desire to lay with him. I had all these parts inside me that he brought out. I never knew I was such a horrid person, wanting such depraved things, until Erik revealed it all to the light for me.

Now that I was thinking of him again, I was thinking of his muscled scarred torso when he woke in my bedroom, after I'd laid with him all night. His hair had been mussed and his face maskless, looking positively edible with no shirt on in the morning light, as he stood to his full height and pierced me with his light catching eyes. He was Erik, the man I loved, but when he left in the middle of breakfast, he'd been the Phantom and my singing instructor once more. It left me feeling odd, not knowing which part of him was the strongest, which would win in the struggle inside him and if he even felt the same or thought the same when he applied his different personas.

Thoughts of last night kept invading me and I closed my eyes at the memory of him holding me down and rising behind me with wild eyes, the image of his relaxed sleeping visage as he lay beside me. Of course, then my mind conjured the images from in between and I vividly recalled his flailing body and his going limp in my arms, the twitching of his restless slumber. I pressed my lips together and a knock sounded on my door.

It was probably Meg, so I made sure the wrapper covered the bruises and then rose to answer the door. There was no one there but as I turned to close the door I saw a small parcel with a note attached beside my entrance. My heart sped as it reminded me of the cloak left in my path and I looked up and down the darkened hall for a sign of Erik. There was not a soul and I grabbed the parcel and quickly closed the door.

Why would he leave me a note when he could have just come in and delivered his present in person? I tore open the envelope.

_Christine,_

_There is one stipulation that was not discussed with you. Since my voice and music may have hypnotized you I will not be speaking to you until you make your decision at the end of these two weeks._

_Erik_

I sat stunned and tears stung my eyes. He would not come to see me? Anger and sorrow pierced me and I noticed under his signature were two small printed words.

_Open it_

Like I would need a reminder to open the parcel after reading his terrible note. I sort of did. I was angry that he would go to such lengths to test my love. I was angry he didn't believe me, thought I was only his drone, hypnotized into feeling anything for him. Sorrow quickly followed my anger and I picked up the brown paper wrapped parcel, trying to put out of my mind how alone I suddenly felt.

There was a small glass bottle with a tag on top of some folded cotton. I quickly read the tag, expecting it to be a tonic for my voice but was surprised by the words written carefully small enough to fit on the small tag.

_Though you ask for no apology, I offer this as mine. Apply thrice daily to the bruises._

More of my anger disappeared as I set the bottle on the table in front of me and pulled out the cotton. Not sure what to expect, I was surprised again by the ladies nightgown I held in my hands. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or shiver at the memory of my torn chemise. Again a part of me had liked the way my body jerked as he'd ripped the fabric from me and part of me had screamed that it wasn't proper or right in the slightest degree and it had kept me awake in prayer long into the night. I blushed red as my thoughts slid to the carnal feel of his hands on me. Guilt and shame flamed through me and I went back to studying the garment.

It was improper for a man who was not my husband to purchase such a garment for me but compared to everything else I'd done with Erik I thought it hardly mattered. I also felt that the nightgown was a sort of apology from him. It was a very proper nightshirt, nothing flimsy like my previous chemise. This was a swath of thicker cotton, long sleeved and gathered around the neck, meant to cover every inch of skin. If I wore this I would barely need the blankets! I bit my lip thinking that Erik was possibly trying to cover me up.

I sat and applied the brown liquid to the bruises and then shrugged out of the wrapper to slip the nightgown over my head. It fell perfectly to the floor, my bare toes poking out along with my fingers and my head. I giggled as I twirled in front of the mirror, completely covered in cotton.

Another knock sounded and I pulled my hair out of the neck. Erik again?

"Who is it?" I called to see if there would be an answer.

"It's Meg," came a loud whisper. I hastened to unlock the door and let her in. "Christine!" she exclaimed and hugged me tightly. "I was so worried! I wanted to leave practice as soon as I heard you were back but you know Maman," she rolled her eyes and then pulled me to the bed. "Where were you? Were you with...him?" she finished quietly, the want of knowledge gleaming in her eyes. I chewed on my lip, not knowing if I was allowed to tell her of my involvement with the opera ghost.

"Please Christine," she clutched my sleeve and then looked down at what I was wearing. "What are you wearing?" she laughed a little. "It looks like something ma grandmere would wear," she laughed some more at me and pulled me back to my feet to take in the long nightgown. I gave her a twirl, laughing myself. Why should I not tell her about Erik and I? She would be my maid when we finally married.

"My fiancee bought it for me," I smiled impishly.

"Fiancee!?!" she screeched and I shushed her quickly, sitting back down beside her to continue the conversation at a softer level. She grabbed at my hand to see the ring and looked up confused at the lack of jewelry. I waved my hand dismissively, though I wished he had at least given it to me to wear on a chain.

"We have to wait a few weeks," I explained Mr. DeChangy's idiotic rules and her lips curled.

"Raoul's father? What does he care?" it was my turn to roll my eyes. I explained how my father's friend felt the need to find me a better husband than the one I already had.

"But his son harassed you! He should butt out! I still can't believe that fop grabbed you like that, he's usually very nice..." she looked away from me, plucking the expensive fabric between her fingers. The reminder of Raoul's 'attack' made it seem paltry when held next to Erik's but a shiver ran through me anyway. The thought of Raoul's unwanted touch still made me cold with dread but Erik's touch, even his damaging ones, made me burn with longing.

"Did the Phantom really buy you this?" she laughed nervously, "Funny, how I find that harder to believe than you being engaged to him." We laughed together and then she looked at me seriously. "You haven't been going to the roof alone all these months have you?" I shook my head silently because I felt bad that I hadn't shared with her. "What do you do up there with him?" her eyes looked a little dreamy.

"We sing, well, he's been teaching me to sing, so I do most of the singing," I shrugged as I trailed off and her eyes sparkled.

"So he does sing! Some people say they hear a heavenly disembodied voice..." she trailed off, cringing at me apologetically. "Sorry, he...he fascinates me."

"Me too," I said honestly, wondering how many people would find him fascinating rather than scary. "When we get married I want you to stand with me," I squeezed her hand and her eyes widened, a smile breaking over her face.

"So, did he kneel? Did he sing a proposal to you? Have you seen the ring?" my mind whirled with all her questions. He was kneeling when he'd told me about the ring but it had all seemed so natural. No formal words or overly romantic gestures, both of us half dressed as we argued and loved all in one light filled morning. Hope had burned in his soft grey eyes as he gazed at me and when he'd kissed me...

I sighed heartily, wondering if I really would not see him for 2 weeks. Could I survive that long without him?

"Hello?" Meg was waving in front of my face and I started with a hand to my breast.

"Oh Sorry," I smiled guiltily.

"So, at least tell me something about him. Something that would make you blank out like that," she grinned at me and I grinned back.

"He's a marvelous kisser," I giggled.

"How would you know?" she pushed me playfully, "You've never kissed a man before?"

"Well, it feels really good to me," I giggled again.

"Have you slept with him?" she asked and I blushed furiously. "Oh Christine, you naughty girl," she teased and I blushed even hotter, "And with Monsieur Phantom!"

"We haven't done anything..." I trailed off lamely, looking away.

"From the redness in your face I'm assuming you've done something?" her voice lilted up with the question.

Something. Our first night together raced through my mind; the fire, the rug and his hands. Our second night together, where I began removing his clothing to get him to stay. Our third night together we'd come perilously close to what Meg had insinuated. I swallowed hard, three nights together was certainly something but they were the most ecstatic and most sinful nights of my life. I didn't particularly want to share them with anyone but Erik.

"His name is Erik."

"And you've seen his face?"

Meg was my only friend but she was also the young girl who would giggle about Le Phantom. I frowned a little at her.

"Yes, I have." My voice brooked no other conversation along those lines and Meg looked away shyly.

"I'm sorry, Christine," she shrugged uncomfortably. "I've wanted to meet him again for years and suddenly you come here and a few months later you're engaged? I wish it was me..." she stopped herself. "OH Christine, I didn't mean it like that! I didn't mean..."

I shushed her, wondering now if Erik had unknowingly hypnotized Meg that day long ago. Perhaps not seeing him would be an interesting test.

"I have a favor to ask of you?" I remembered my chaperon idea.

"Anything." She nodded to emphasize her desire to make amends. I asked her if she would want to come with me on these trying excursions and see if she liked anything she saw. I also explained that someone who was helping me had asked her mother's permission.

"Oh," her eyes glittered, imagining four young available men.

"They are looking for wives," I reminded her.

"And they will be rich and hopefully handsome," she smiled but then paused. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"Absolutely," I nodded.

"I hope Maman agreed to it," she hugged me close. "I'm glad you are happy and healthy." Meg left shortly after that and I sat to braid my hair before bed. It was still early but I was half dead from not sleeping last night. The door clicked behind me and I thought it was Meg again but as I turned I realized I'd locked the door behind her.

My beloved was leaning against the wall, fully the Phantom instructor, and my heart ached for the loss of my vulnerable man even as it raced to see him.

"I...I thought you were staying away?" my voice dried as he pushed from the wall and walked towards me slowly. He rose one hand and seemed to silently snap his fingers and a card flicked into his hand as if through magic. He held it towards me and I, with an inward groan, politely read the card.

_I wrote that I would not be speaking to you, not that I would not see you._

He knew I would assume he would be absent. I crossed my arms poutingly as he stalked around me and I followed him with my eyes.

"Just to let you know, I think this is pointless. You not talking to me is going to drive me crazy whether or not you've hypnotized me." He let me say my piece and then took me forcefully into his arms. His eyes boiled down at me with every possible emotion and he held me tightly like he never wanted to let go. My anger dissipated under his intense gaze and I began to burn in his presence, remembering all the things we'd done. I hugged him tightly, a shiver running through me as I realized we didn't need to talk to communicate. His eyes told stories all on their own. He was like a wick of emotion burning hard and hot. Feeling off balance, I pushed away from him dizzily. If he wouldn't speak to me or give me my ring then I shouldn't let him have me so easily, as much as I enjoyed it.

I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and thought I looked like Marguerite from Faust, with a dark under lord at my back. I sat shakily, glad that I had the fortitude to resist him.

"How are you feeling?" I was concerned that though he outwardly looked like the Opera Ghost, he was still my vulnerable Erik, like he was hiding from me or maybe from himself. "Do you usually bounce back so quickly? Could you relapse?" He rolled his eyes and handed me another appearing card. He picked up my discarded locks as I reached for the card and continued with my hair for me.

_Do not worry for my health._

How did he know to have these cards ready? I wasn't so silly as to think that he could instantly forge his words onto blank cards. He had to have written them before hand. Was he trying to prove to me I was 'under his spell' by anticipating my biggest concerns? I huffed and tossed the card onto the table trying to think of an odd question, something he wouldn't have thought to write about.

"When will we be married?" I asked earnestly, looking at his reflection in front of me. His eyes met mine in the mirror and he held the half braid in one hand as the other slid into his jacket pocket. He pulled out several cards and flipped, one handed, through a few before holding one up for me to read.

_We will speak of that later._

He was really going to drive me mad over this fortnight.

---

Erik

---

After putting away the assorted cards, I finished braiding her hair and tied it with a ribbon she had on her powder table. Even though the nightgown I bought her covered every inch of her skin she still looked delectable and my mind wandered, thinking of her naked form as my hand trailed around her delicate neck.

'When will we be married...'

My little angel was so eager for me. I smiled down at her feeling very sure that these days would pass and she would still want me.

Because I made her want me...

I knelt at her side morosely and she smiled down at me quizzically. I'd meant for this to be a short visit but I didn't want to leave now that I was here. I felt so relaxed in her presence, even more so when she touched me, gently trailing her fingers over my ear into my hair. It was as if my brain made a buzzing noise, like a hive of bees, but when we touched the noise went away. I ducked my head and rested it on her knee.

"Oh Erik," she sighed and petted my hair lovingly. "Let's run away and never look back."

I chuckled silently. I was far too selfish for that. I wanted to keep my business and Nadir and have her, all at once. I also told myself that if she would love me, as she seemed to want to, I would do things right. I wouldn't steal her away into the darkness, even if she wouldn't care. Giving her a choice of husband appeased Mr. DeChangy and my silence would test the fortitude of our love as well as my hold on her. I let my hand tickle the hem of her nightgown and trailed a finger around her ankle.

Life with me would not be easy for her, I knew I would be possessive and protective of her. I knew watching her on stage in another man's arms would kill me but I would get through it knowing it was me she was thinking of. My gloved hand was gliding up and down her smooth calf and her breath shuddered.

It was time to go. If I didn't I would end up tearing this nightgown from her willing body as well. I stood and cupped her cheek in one hand with the words I love you ready on my tongue. I recalled my vow of silence and pulled out the cards. Christine harrumphed and crossed her arms.

"If you are worried I might go crazy not hearing your voice, then worry some more. It's working like a charm." She looked away from me, sarcastic, petulant and sweet. "How would you feel if I decided not to talk to you for 2 weeks?"

I raised one eyebrow at her, knowing she could never last so long and she knew it too by the way she began grumbling under her breath. I pulled out the cards and found the one with the most writing. I laid it face down on her table and she reached for it automatically but I shook my head and wagged a finger at her. She sat back.

"When will I see you again?" she whispered sadly and moved, by her obvious love for me, I kissed her forehead. The mask bumped her before my lips did and embarrassed, I straightened quickly. She followed me up, stripping the mask from my face to properly kiss me. Her arms twined around my neck and I sank into the love in her embrace. She kissed me with mindless joy and I felt warmed through by the promise of a future in her arms.

I peeled myself away from her with a smile that only she could put on my face. I turned to the door and she said, "Um, Erik?" I turned back to her. She was holding the mask towards me, giggling that I'd forgotten it.

Minx, I thought to myself grinning foolishly before replacing it. I left her room, speedily getting myself into the hidden corridor. I proceeded to the spot where the dark tunnel curved close to her room. I'd been able to hear the young Giry girl asking her about me, asking if we'd laid together of all things, and I leaned there for a moment imagining her eyes darting over the note card I'd left.

It explained that my illness could be controlled with the laudanum but taking it left me asleep for half the day. I explained that I wouldn't see her very often over the course of this fortnight but that I still planned to put my ring on her finger in two weeks time and if she could refrain from getting herself into any trouble I would be greatly appreciative. I also mentioned in the rambling note that my life had been easier before her but I didn't go into detail and I finished with a renewed promise to take care of myself.

I thought I heard her sigh and I let my own sigh escape me. I pushed away from the wall. I hadn't meant to hold her or kiss her or even touch her but I had no will when it came to her. What ever she wanted, I would give it, and it was so clear on her face that she wanted me. Even if I did make her feel that way, she had no conflict within her. She was one hundred percent mine.

At the return to my lair, I quickly readied for bed and slid between the sheets, feeling optimistic. Was she lying in her bed thinking of me as I was thinking of her? I rolled to my side and reached out to touch her pillow. I would try to sleep without laudanum tonight and if it didn't work then tomorrow, when she went to bed, I would take it. I'd try to match my sleeping hours to hers so that I could still watch over her at least part of the time.

I stroked the pillow and leaned over further to see if it held her scent. Her clean rose hinted musk assailed me and I rolled to my stomach burying my face in her pillow.

Christine. My love. My angel. My sunshine. I closed my eyes, smiling as I relaxed.


	30. Scattered

---

Christine

---

I lay awake after Erik left, incredibly uncomfortable in the long nightgown. It was too warm with the blankets on top of me and I frustratingly tried to kick them off but my legs were tangled in the expensive nightshirt and I ended up even more warm with my limbs even more snarled within the confines of my tiny bed.

I sighed and struggled to my feet to set everything right. I thought about taking off the nightshirt but as I smoothed my hands down the fabric I decided to keep it on. I stripped off the blankets instead and then lay on the bare sheet, being careful not to twist the nightgown and get tangled again. I lay and stared at the ceiling wondering if Erik was able to sleep or if he took his laudanum or if he was up working. I rolled over, annoyed and wishing we could be together right now but realistically two weeks wasn't very long to wait when I'd waited my whole life to meet him. Of course, now that I knew what I was missing it made it harder for me to go without him but I could last two more weeks.

I just wish I had something to occupy more of my time. Meg had reminded me about nine o'clock rehearsal but said that since this was closing week the rehearsals were pretty lax, just random run throughs of some of Faust and some of Hannibal. Next week we would start full rehearsals for Hannibal and I hoped Mme Giry would see it in her heart to give me a part. Of course, if she didn't then I would have nothing tying me to this Opera House and I could go with Erik wherever he wanted to go.

I dreamed about what our life would be. Would we live below ground or could I convince him to find a home above in the light? Or maybe he would build us a house. I would definitely want a bathtub like the one he'd created for me below, it was perfect. Would we share a bedroom and leave the other rooms empty for guests and children or would we have separate bedrooms and only come together for marital relations? I flamed red that my thoughts had travelled right to the intimacy I was so willing to share with Erik.

I flopped onto my back, disgusted that I was so weak when it came to offering my mouth and body to him. I just couldn't resist when he looked at me with those soul piercing eyes...

I rolled again and slid my hand under my pillow to grab hold of my bible. Heavenly Father, I closed my eyes, are my feelings a sin? If I love this man then why should I be ashamed of how he makes me feel? Did you bring me to this place to be united with my mated soul? What must I do to help Erik? Is it enough that I pray for him and love him or must I do more? Must I bring you back into his life? Can you help me through this or have I sinned too greatly to be deserving of your aid? I clutched the often flipped through book to my chest as words began to fail me and I felt peace.

There were clouds above me and below me. I floated through them looking intently as if for something in particular. A dark shadow loomed ahead of me and I shrank back trying to keep from going towards it. Erik appeared in that darkness but he was bound to something I couldn't see, flinching from an attack I couldn't hear. I reached for him immediately. I opened my mouth to call to him but his eyes raised and he looked through me like I wasn't there. His eyes were barren and dead of light and I was whisked away by the wind. The pain I felt at his absence blinded me to whatever was happening and when I was finally able to see again I saw light.

All around me, I was swathed in light, no darkness could compete with the searing white light that surrounded me.

_You know..._

"Hello?" I called out, my voice sounding small, insignificant and hollow to the full sound of that strange resonating timber in my ear.

_You know Christine..._

A strange sensation sang through me and I fell to my knees in prayer.

_My child..._

My head snapped up. Papa?

_Our child..._

The feminine chide had my heart clenching in remembrance. I looked over my shoulder and saw an odd amorphous shape made of two different soft colors. I squinted at the sight and knew. Tears fell from my cheeks in joy and love swelled within me. Arms embraced me from behind and the perfect feel of them around me sang with musical perfection. Only one man held me so tight and yet so gently.

Erik...

I woke with a start as I landed on the floor in my bedroom. I'd rolled off the small bed onto the floor trying to hold onto...

_You know..._

The words echoed through my mind as I lay on the cold floor, completely awake, contemplating the heavenly nature of my strange dream.

I couldn't go back to sleep after that. I lay awhile more on the floor and then up on the bed, thinking about the dream over and over again. Never had anything so vivid been played in my mind's eye and I couldn't stop the feeling that it had all somehow been real. I rose after a few hours and washed and dressed and made my way to the roof. The sun had not yet risen and I waited for it patiently, thinking of Erik and of my parents.

When the light filled the sky I rose to my feet and felt a strong holy power fill me. Erik and I were meant to be together. I knew that fact from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. No other arms then the ones destined by God could feel so amazing when they held me. No other arms would be able to hold me so perfectly. I was made for Erik and he was made for me.

Joy filled me as I realized in two short weeks, Erik and I would be engaged and then our lives could begin together. We would have a happy loving life together. Only happy thoughts were in my head throughout the morning but as the day wore on, not having seen Erik at all, it began to get a little harder for me. I also received a letter from Mr. DeChangy with the dates of these tedious dinners I had to endure and it did nothing to hearten my mood. I wasn't very attentive during rehearsal and was glad there was nothing new to learn at the moment. The liniment had magically healed the bruises and as I applied more of it that evening to the quickly fading, yellow marks I briefly wondered if that was a mistake. If his marks were erased from my body then I might have no other evidence of his continuing existence. Why was he not coming to see me?

Time moved achingly slowly, as I waited to see him again, one day taking as long as five to run its course. I couldn't sleep well because every time my brain had time to think, it conjured images of him touching me. Guilt and shame would run their course every time I allowed myself to remember the exquisite feel of us together but I continued to take solace in my heavenly dream. Perhaps it wasn't so sinful to feel this way for the man who was meant to be your husband and your eternal partner. But of course, I wasn't fully confident in those thoughts either when my thoughts towards Erik ran to such carnal things and not to the heavenly at all. I think I would have sat in my room waiting for him to appear if not for Meg. She dragged me to breakfast and dinner every morning and night and chatted excitedly about meeting the available men amongst a variety of other topics. I could understand why Erik likened me to sunshine. Meg was mine without him around and I couldn't imagine Erik going his whole life without me there to make him smile. He'd endured so much alone...

By Thursday morning I was anxious. I had not seen a single sign or glimpse of Erik, Le Phantom, as Meg continued to call him. Tonight was the first dinner and as rehearsal progressed I kept glancing at Box 5 to see if the curtain moved at all. Meg and I would be eating at the estate of Lord Aaron Horestooth or Housentooth or whatever it was. She was beyond excited and it showed in her dancing where as I danced half heartedly, twirling gently and running into another dancer. The cane rapped loudly.

"Christine Daae! Are you paying attention?" I whirled to face Mme Giry.

"I'm sorry Mme, I couldn't hear the music properly..."

My excuse was lame but she didn't strike me with the cane, and I thought it might have to do with the small audience watching today's practice.

"We have an audience today," her eyebrows arched disapprovingly and Meg tittered. She turned to her daughter and Meg froze in disbelief, probably at the terrifying look on her mother's face. "From the beginning!" she ordered sharply and we scrambled into the starting positions as the musicians flipped back to the start. No one ever argued with Madame. Meg tapped me as we waited for our cue to enter and she made a funny face.

"Who are those people?" I asked curiously and Meg glanced out at the men who were sitting with the managers looking around themselves interestedly.

"Are you finished wasting everyone's time Christine?" Mme Giry was furious we'd missed our cue and the men all fell silent, looking towards us. I was making us look really bad and slowly went red at the attention of everyone in the room.

"I'm sorry," I bowed my head and curtsied hoping I wasn't ruining prospective business for the Opera Garnier.

"From the beginning, AGAIN!" Mme Giry's voice was icy and I paid attention from then on, trying to make up for my bad behavior. All my behavior seemed bad lately...

When we finally broke I was exhausted and embarrassed and wanting to see Erik so badly that I was in no mood to go to dinner and pretend anything. I dragged myself to the washroom to start getting ready and Meg was there chirping cheerfully to a few girls.

"Oh Christine, Christine! What's his name again?" she called out when she saw me and my mouth opened, thinking she'd told all of them about me and Le phantom. She chattered on, "Aaron something or other, but he's a Lord! Just think..." she twirled on and I breathed out slowly, glad that she had not betrayed my confidence. But the thought of Erik was back in my head now and it hurt me immensely. I went through my rituals with half of my brain, that was all that seemed to work since my love had disappeared from my life.

Was I truly just hypnotized? Is that the only reason I ached to see him, to touch him, to talk to him, just to be in his presence? I didn't care of he didn't utter a sound, just to be able to lay my eyes on him and make sure he was okay. What if he was ill and needed me and I was left not knowing? I covered my face not wanting to dissolve into tears. My hands balled into fists and I lifted my head to glare at my reflection. I was not going to cry and be all puffy. Even though I was not interested in the people we would meet tonight it wasn't very nice to go to dinner with big puffy teary eyes. I picked up my comb and began mechanically fixing my hair as my sorrow turned to anger.

This whole test of his was just stupid! And unfair! And juvenile! And I was going to tell him so the very second he appeared before me. That is, if I could keep from leaping into his embrace. I moaned and covered my face again.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered to my empty room. I wanted nothing more than to have Erik's ring on my finger and take up my place as his bride. Why did I have to run this gauntlet first?

All good things come to those who wait...

Meg knocked on my door, "Are you ready, Christine?" She was so excited that I quickly composed myself and pinched my cheeks as she squealed from the other side, "The carriage is amazing!"

I couldn't help the smile as I opened my door. "Let's go!" I exaggerated some joviality to make up for my recent sullenness and we headed to the front of the opera where the gilded carriage would take us to the home of Lord Aaron Housen-something.

---

Erik

---

I watched her leave from the shadows, wanting to follow but knowing there would be little place to hide in a public setting, at some other man's home. Instead, I stalked down the hall to her room, hoping someone would get in my way, a male preferably, so I could toss him recklessly out of my path. An irrational anger was building in me even though I had agreed to this. I fully remembered the way she had hit me and said, 'Who's fault is it Erik?'

Mine. It was always my fault. I slipped into her room, with a mental note to improve the lock, and leaned against the wall breathing in the scent of her that lingered on the air. My heart was beating erratically and I wondered if I would finally have another of these fits. I had been seriously neglecting my health to test the limits of my illness and yet, not one whisper of a tremor. It supported that Christine was my undoing and the thought made my heart ache.

I'd spent the last three days trailing her every movement, up to the roof, to the practices, sitting in the dark tunnel while she slept and spying on her every second like some shadowy dog. A shamelessly obsessed, panting fucking dog. That's what I related to because that's what I was, following her everywhere just so I could be in the presence of her radiant golden aura. If I stayed away, no matter how short the time, I began to get twitchy imagining all sorts of terrible things that could befall her and ruin that aura. I knew if I didn't watch her that I would be too late to help her. This meant that I spent the majority of my time staring at her from one hiding place or another. No one else existed for me. My eyes saw no other as they gazed at my angel. But I also was not sleeping or eating, not composing or researching, my house was in disarray, and my laboratory unvisited in the longest time I could recall and now I was starting to get panicky thinking of her at some mansion somewhere, dining, making small talk, laughing politely and glowing...

I slid down the wall and stripped off the mask. How I wished I could be a normal man come to sweep her off her feet. A normal man would never have acted as I did. A normal man would never have been asked by Mr. DeChangy for this favor. A normal man, if asked though, would step aside and let fate decide. A normal man would never stalk the object of his desire. Normal, I would never be.

I growled and threw the mask across the room, insanely tormented by images of Christine laughing with Meg as they left the Garnier. She had looked very miserable today at practice, even more so when her inattention had disturbed things. I'd thought maybe she missed me as badly as I missed her. I thought about visiting her again but she hadn't stayed in any one place long enough to get her attention. She'd gone straight to the washing room, which was different from her usual schedule and then I realized, eligible bachelor number one, and she was on her way, laughing and smiling, looking radiant in one of the dresses I bought for her! Why didn't I just buy her a silver platter to stand on?

I rubbed my temples. Maybe it was for the best that I hadn't visited with her. This was after all the point in testing us. So far I hadn't had a single tremor and if she would be happy without me then...

Fuck that! I stood up and began pacing. I would endure far worse then a few seizures to be with her! I didn't give a fig for my health except that the longer my life, the more days I could spend with my angel. If she was truly only mine through some fantastic musical mind control that I possessed and managed to break my hold on her then I would just snare her again. It was not wrong. She would be happy with me! I needed her. I couldn't even imagine that she would not need me as well. She was mine. MINE!

The head ache throbbed painfully and I gripped my head briefly. Not sleeping was having some other affects on me but no convulsions so far. As I straightened dizzily, I decided to sit down for a few minutes. I sat at her table and pulled a sheet of paper towards me. I would leave her a note to remind her I still loved her. Words dashed out over the page quickly.

_Break me from the darkness I have become_

_Share with me your golden light_

_I live not until your eyes are upon me_

_It all fades to nothing in the end_

I read it over and scowled. That was horribly dark and depressing. I ripped the paper and tossed the crumpled poetry aside.

_Goddess of light, I worship you_

_Queen of my heart, I am yours_

_Mother to hold me, sister to laugh with_

_and Lover to sweep me away_

"Arrgh!" I groaned, destroying the sweet and strange words. I furrowed my brow and wrote again.

_**Darling, I feel like a God when I am next to you_

_Something sacred, someone straight and true_

_Tell me do you feel the same way too?**_

Hmmm...That I liked, but not for now. I tucked the paper into my pocket. I could write I miss you but it seemed too pathetic when I was the cause of our separation. I love you seemed too desperate. I stood to gather the scraps off the floor and tucked them into my cloak. Then I searched for my mask.

Once I made it back to my lair I tidied things up for awhile and then paced restlessly. I was counting the minutes until she could possibly be back. I was breaking my promise to her dreadfully. I was purposely not caring for myself, partially to test my illness but also because I honestly could not lay in my bed and not think of her. How could I sleep unless I knew she was safe? And how could I do both unless she was in my arms? That would solve things but really...

If you want to sleep next to her then give her, her damn ring and tell Mr. DeChangy you've changed your mind!

I stopped pacing and my cloak settled around me. I looked down surprised I had it on, but then I wasn't really surprised. I was only here to kill time until I set up vigil in the dark tunnel for my third night. I could hear her move within her room and that was enough to ensure me of her safety. Conversations she had with Meg were interesting, the Giry girl usually took charge but she managed to make Christine laugh more often than not and I was glad for that. Hearing her laughter echo through the wall would bring a smile to my face regardless of how bad my head hurt.

I started pacing again. I wanted to know when the next dinners were, where they were and who they were with. Suddenly I really did not like not knowing where exactly she was. I hated that I'd agreed to this nonsense. Nadir had told me not to do this but what did he know of being an outcast. He was easily accepted by all people. I was not. I would jump through hoops if that is what was required of the monster who desired an angel.

Yes, jump through hoops...

I stopped as a wicked idea came to mind. I couldn't very well get any information from Christine since I was not talking to her but her chaperon...

I began to smile. Little Giry would tell me what I needed to know. Things like, was the man charming? Did he give her a gift? Did she enjoy herself? Did he look interested? Did she? The smile left my face.

You are a broken shell of a man, with half a face and no estate. Instead, you live in a cave. Why would she stay if another of the men caught her eye? I mean, I had no charm, no experience and was ugly and I caught her eye! The man could be a half wit cripple and he could win her...

NO! That was crude of me to think such things about her! Just because she was my innocent sprite did not mean she would fall prey to the glib tongues of societies upper...

SHIT! Perhaps I should make her aware of aristocratic lying bastards...

NO! I rubbed at my temples to fend off the headache. I needed to get in place before they returned so I could interrogate the dancer. Once I knew how tonight had gone I would proceed. I glanced at the bottle of laudanum that had not been touched in many days now, a whole week actually. First Meg. Then pass on a message or not. Then figure out how to get rid of this headache.

I strode off with purpose, ignoring the throb in my temple.

Scaring little Giry into telling me everything was incredibly easy. I just stood in the corner of her room, arms crossed and cloak pushed back so as not to waste the pose and glowered at her until she turned around and shrieked with all her might. Two strides to reach her and a hand over her mouth made her eyes widen into large blue saucers.

"Monsieur Phantom," she mouthed behind my hand.

"I would appreciate if you would not scream so loud, Mademoiselle."

Her mouth opened and closed until a muffled sorry came out. Satisfied I removed my hand and stepped back.

"Tell me everything that occurred tonight," and she did. She babbled nervously and excitedly about Lord what's his face like he was a god. Christine was quiet and shy through the meal, only really conversing with the Lord when he brought up the opera. She had told him she wished to be a prima donna and he'd been interested in becoming a patron if she would be the lead singer. Christine had blushed and Meg went on and on about how handsome and polite and charming the Lord was. He was the perfect gentleman.

Damn. I certainly wasn't a perfect gentleman. I grilled her about the next dinner and found out it was next week, Tuesday she thought, or Wednesday.

I bowed to my informant, "You have been very helpful. When I next return, you will give me another update."

"Why?" she said impertinently and I glared at her for emphasis.

"Because I have ordered it." She frowned in overt confusion.

"No, I mean why do you need..." she trailed off and light dawned on her face and she smiled at me impishly. "You're worried she'll pick one of them."

My pride rallied for me to dismiss such nonsense but I couldn't do it and make her believe me. The best argument I had was a stony face.

"Perhaps next time you will refrain from shrieking so loud?" I said coldly and then slipped out into the hall, moving fast to my hidden corridors. I moved effortlessly to the spot where I could hear Christine in her room. I listened carefully for a moment but could hear nothing. I pulled out my earpiece and placed it on the stone. I heard something...

I closed my eyes to concentrate and my ears were suddenly assaulted. Meg came screeching into Christine's room and I flew back from the wall cursing.

"He was in my room! Oh my lord, he scared the life out of me!" she was laughingly regailing Christine with my visit and I mentally cursed myself for forgetting to tell her not to share it.

"Who?" my sweetness said with confusion.

"Monsieur Le Phantom! Good Grief! I didn't remember him looking so scary!"

"Erik?"

"He was in my room! He just talked to me..."

"He talked to you?" I could hear an unusual inflection in Christine's voice but without her face to read, I couldn't fathom...

Meg tittered obviously not paying attention to Christine, "More like ordered me about! He's so serious. I can't imagine him kissing you! Does he leave the mask on? Is it strange?"

"I don't want to talk about him right now." Oh. She was mad.

"What's wrong, Christ..." Meg did not finish because my sweet gentle angel exploded.

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" The silence felt thunderous compared to her heated shriek.

"Sorry," came a quiet reply.

"Please go," my angel's voice got lost in a sob.

"Are you..."

"LEAVE! GO! Just go..." she dissolved into sobs and the door opened and shut quietly before something slammed into the wall. I jerked away from the stone imagining her throwing something large enough to make that loud a noise. Should I go to her? Would she slam the door in my face? Did I want to risk that or just pretend I hadn't heard any of this?

My head throbbed painfully and I rested my bare cheek on the cold stone as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Christine suddenly wailed out loud. "Why will he speak to her and not me? Am I no longer worthy of his love? Will you take him away from me as well?" I realized she was yelling at God and walked a little ways down the tunnel so I wouldn't eavesdrop on her private words. I fell to my knees with a tightness in my chest. I could feel the pull towards her. Go to her and she will be happy. But then if I was around her I would want to touch her and then things would certainly get carried away. Two weeks, monster. You only have to go for ten more days. My hands fisted on my knees as tears rolled down my face, wetting the inside of the mask. I was in actual physical pain at the thought of her grief. I was hurting her still! No matter if I touched her or not! I gripped my knees as I curled over myself. Awareness tingled down my neck and the shaking started and I had time to think...SHIT!

**Author's Note: OH! Another cliffy! hehehe...**

**Just wanted to note that the poetry Erik wrote was inspired by a song called 'Like I Do' by a group named Live. The one piece of poetry with the astericks ** is a direct quote of the lyrics. Just wanted to give credit where credit is due.**

**Leave me a review *kneeling and begging and supplicating***


	31. Communiqué

---

Christine

---

I railed at God for letting me taste everything I wanted and then snatching it away so quickly. Give Erik BACK! I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. My anger though was short lived because I immediately thought I had to be punished for my sinful nights. You are sick and depraved! You told him you LIKED him biting you! How could he love you?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I whimpered and gave over to crying for a few minutes, fearing my sin had stripped me of Erik. I sobbed heartily and as my breath began to catch, one question kept rattling in my head. Why was he talking to Meg? He had stayed away from running into her for years and now he breaks his long silence to speak to her while vowing silence to me? I wiped the tears from my face and stood up, straightening my skirt.

Stop being a child! I reprimanded myself. No wonder Mr. DeChangy didn't think you could make a proper decision for yourself. I'd just go find out what Erik talked to Meg about.

Once I'd apologized to Meg for my behavior and explained that Erik wasn't talking to me or visiting me and I was depressed about it and still touchy, she patted me comfortingly.

"So, why did he want to talk to you?" I hoped she would still be as candid as she would have been before my outburst. She smiled at me widely.

"He is worried," she held my hand and revealed Erik's interrogation. My lips trembled as I thought of him so worried, not only for my welfare but for my heart as well. I looked away from Meg, not wanting to cry again and I knew her compassionate face would undo me.

"If he would give me his ring I would gladly wear it for all to see," I moped.

Meg rubbed my back soothingly, "It will work out, Christine. Just wait and see. I knew he was a good man. Maman always said to stay away from him, that he was dangerous," she wiggled her fingers for emphasis and laughed. I stared at her blearily and stopped paying attention to what exactly she was saying as she chattered about Lord Aaron, how handsome he was and cordial too. I couldn't see him as handsome though. He'd looked soft and feminine with his light hair styled in waves from his face. He was almost pretty instead of handsome. His brown eyes kind and soft, but sort of dull without that bright burn of hope, they were not sharp or piercing or as deep as a fathomless stormy, wildly uncontrollable sea. I groaned and dropped my head in my hands.

"I'm obsessed with him, Meg. All I can think of is him. All I want is to disappear with him into darkness and never look back..." Erik wasn't pretty and soft. He was rugged and dark, entirely masculine and enticingly sexual. "I've...I want him and I barely know what that means but I want him! My entire body aches for him. My mind and heart are constantly crying out for him! My ears yearn to drink down the sound of his voice. And yet...he can stay away as if I mean nothing."

"Don't say that Christine! You didn't see him. He looked...disturbed." My head whirled as I clutched her arm.

"Was he shaking?" my panic mounted, thinking him very ill.

"Shaking?" she screwed up her face, "Not really, he was just very tense. His hands were in fists." I felt faint. How ill was he? Was his life in peril? Did we not have all the time in the world to be together? Would the Lord really take him from me so quickly? Panic surged forward.

"I...I need to write him a letter... He has to come...He has to come see me," I was shaking her. "Will you give it to him next week when he comes?" I clutched at her dizzily as she moved to catch me.

"Relax, Christine," she quickly embraced me murmuring softly that everything would be okay. I could tell that I'd startled her and I closed my eyes and hugged her, feeling like I was unravelling.

Erik...

My heart called for him and I could no longer contain the tears. I sobbed into Meg's worn wrapper and she held me tightly, consoling me expertly. When I tired, which didn't take long since my sleep has been so interrupted lately, I sat away from her and dried my tears with the back of my hand.

"I'm sorry, I love him...so much," I said brokenly. "Papa died so quickly..." I held my breath to keep from crying anew. Meg looked so friendly and comforting that I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly. "I'm afraid to lose Erik too." Especially since I was no longer worthy of my perfect love.

"Don't worry about things that are out of your control. Why don't you write him a letter and maybe Maman can contact him. They must communicate somehow..." I suddenly felt extremely better. He would come if I asked him to, even if he didn't speak, it didn't matter.

"That's a wonderful idea," I was buoyed as hope welled within me and I knew that so very soon I would be able to see him. And then I would have him all to myself. I smiled at Meg and she smiled timidly. "Well, I'm glad the first dinner is done and over with, only three more to go!" I laughed lightly and stood to go, not paying any attention to Meg, I left, already writing the letter to Erik in my head.

---

Erik

---

I woke in darkness and thought I was in my cell but when I rolled weakly onto my stomach, I felt my luxurious clothes. Opera house...

Where the hell was I?

I tried to see in the darkness which was usually not too hard but my vision was weak and bleary. I was in a tunnel. Where was I going? Where was Christine?

I remembered Christine's perfect voice shouting...

At me? Did I go see her?

I slowly got to my hands and knees. How long have I been laying there? My body felt slightly abused and I breathed deeply a few times, pushing the pain aside. I crawled haltingly for a few long minutes and came to a corner I definitely recognized. I propped myself up against the stones that kept me out of her room. Was she inside? Was she still angry? What did I do? If I went to her now regardless of the hour, or what had occurred would she open her arms or throw something at me...

Throw something at the wall?

I sighed and let the wall take my weight. Well, maybe I should stop abusing myself and set up a regimen of laudanum now. I would have to check the time but about three days had passed since the last attack. Christine's loving touch also didn't cause my fits. Good to know. The emotional stress she poured into me was probably the culprit. Or my neglectful ways, or my messed up head, or those dark voices that laughed at me...

I felt so tired. I just wanted to go and take Christine in my arms and tell her I love her and let her hold me before I passed out. If she wasn't mad at me.

Why was I going to these lengths to appease Mr. DeChangy? Nadir thought I should tell him to back off. I wanted to tell him that.

I sneered and was surprised the mask was not on my face. It was probably somewhere on the ground where I'd dropped and convulsed.

I took a deep breath. I had to get things together. Less than ten days left to go before I would officially propose and it would be announced and I needed to prepare myself to step out as Christine's constant escort. I also needed to find a nice piece of property that I could build her a house on. Nadir had generously offered up his land, which was more than large enough to build another home out of view of the main house. Then we could see him regularly and live with relative anonymity somewhere in the woods of his estate. I didn't have my own estate but I supposed I had my father's?

I smiled weakly. There was that nice pool of slowed stream water in the southern part of the property. Suddenly my thoughts were invaded by voices.

"Did you write it?" Meg asked.

"Yes. It's ready. Here it is. Please make sure he gets it. It is dire! Very, very important. Please Meg. Please!"

"I will, don't worry, I will."

Interesting. Who was Christine writing to so desperately? I stood shakily and trailed Meg to her mother's room. While there I overheard more interesting things.

"Maman, I'm afraid for her. She was a wild woman, not at all like the Christine I know. Something about Mr. Phantom..."

"Hush!" I was perfectly silent for a good minute before Mme Giry spoke again. "Do not speak of him."

"Maman..."

"NON!"

"Please, Christine is crazy, I don't know how to help her except like this. Please Maman. She loves him."

After a long silence, Mme Giry sighed and there was an exchange of hands on paper.

"How do you communicate with him?"

"I will not tell you. Stay here and I will take the letter to him." I almost laughed out loud at the invitation for Meg to follow her mother and discover my secrets just as easily. I found I didn't really care so much anymore. With a wife to stand beside I no longer needed to amuse myself with running the opera exactly to my specifications and would give up my role as Opera Ghost, though I may still give my opinion, but as Erik Karan.

I tailed the mother and daughter team. Meg stayed far enough away that Madame could blame ignorance and I followed feeling slightly weak. I had to wait for Meg to explore Box 5 and find the wooden box between the chairs. Once she was satisfied with this she left with a smile and bounce to her step and I finally retrieved the note that Christine had so desperately wanted me to have.

_My Dearest Erik,_

_I beg you to come before me. I cannot sleep nor eat without the knowledge of your well being. What ever measures you must take to communicate with me are accepted or if you will not communicate at all, I will accept that too. Only, I must lay my eyes on you to assure myself of your health. I will worry myself sick without that knowledge._

_Please, I beg you come_

_Forever your Christine_

The letter was hastily written, as if she was in a hurry to spill it onto the page. I read it again and could feel the underlying desperation in her words. I wrote her a quick reply and slid it under her door. All it said was _Come to Box 5._ I didn't give a time because I planned to go straight there as soon as I found my mask. It was well after midnight and I figured she would come in the morning before rehearsal. She would see the note on the ground as soon as soon as she got out of bed. I removed my cloak and jacket and laid out on the floor to wait for her. The area was mostly confined and I figured it would be easier to keep from touching her with a few barriers and obstructions in the way.

She had begged to see me, just see me. She could look and then go. As long as she just looked at me I could resist the allure of her lips and the gentle grasp of her arms. If she came to me and opened her arms it would seriously test my strength of will. How many days were left for me in hell?

The curtains were all closed around me as I entered the box. The dark was so complete that I breathed out a sigh. It reminded me of my cell in Persia. They never beat me in that cell and I would sometimes be left alone for days in that welcoming darkness. Sometimes it would close around me like a protective mother's womb, sheltering me in the utter black. Usually the dark box made me feel that same peace and I could possibly sleep off my seizure exhaustion but not anymore and no such luck. I fidgeted and moved my position a million times over the course of the night. The morning passed and I could hear people arriving for rehearsal and I was pacing the box, which was probably going to make me dizzy.

Where was she? She begs to see me and then doesn't come?

By the time, rehearsal started I had checked to see if she was present. She looked like she'd just rolled from bed and I noticed her eyes flicking to the Box repeatedly. It looked like she wanted to bolt right up here and I relaxed into one of the chairs to watch rehearsal progress. I didn't really notice anything but Christine in her dancing tights, with those enticing slippers tied around her ankles. Her hair all pulled back from her face making her look too innocent to be mine. She danced with the other girls and then the orchestra was trying a song from Hannibal. Carlotta started screeching and my head throbbed sharply and I couldn't watch the stage anymore or my eyeball would explode. I hunched over and pried off the mask to rub my temples.

A few more days of this headache and I would drink the whole bottle of laudanum. Maybe I should drink some water too and possibly eat something, I was such an idiot, but before I took any laudanum I had to make sure Christine was safe. Maybe I could get her to stay with Nadir just for a few days, or maybe get Meg to watch over her. I rubbed hard as Carlotta hit one of her high notes and began chanting go away, go away. I wasn't entirely sure if I was speaking to my headache or the headache on stage.

I breathed in deeply, hoping to air out the pain and the memory of Christine's scent tickled my nose. I held my breath so I could hold on to that precious hallucination for just a moment longer and then let out my breath slowly. I inhaled again and, sweet angels on high, I had lapsed into pure madness and was smelling her all around me. I sat up as I revelled in the insanity of her maddening vixen like perfume. It had dissipated quickly from her pillow but every so often I would catch a trace of it somehow and it would drive me wild in memory. This was a full hallucination of the same variety and I greedily inhaled again, my eyes closed in bliss to savor every second when a hand touched my disfigured face.

I leapt from my chair so fast that I toppled over it backwards, caught myself and stood ramrod straight, staring at Christine on the other side of the chairs.

I was not hallucinating. She was standing before me in her dancing clothes, her hair tucked away.

"Erik..." she breathed, her face going soft and open, loving and happy, her eyes large limpid pools of light. She came around the chairs quickly and I raised my hands to stop her from touching me but it seemed they opened for her to step into. She rubbed her cheek on my chest and I held her tightly. I was weak but I was under the power of her love for me, and it was far stronger then I could ever be. Surely, I wasn't capable of slavery to this degree. Her feelings for me had to be real, or at least very strong.

I wrapped her securely in my arms feeling peace wash over me and was stunned for a moment.

Idiot. If she holds your heart then you are not whole without her.

I pulled back to look into those eyes. The warm loving golden depths rose out towards me. There were tears on her lashes and I tsked just once at her as I brushed them away.

"I can't bare to be away from you, Erik," her lips trembled and my brow furrowed sadly. What were my choices doing to her? She buried her face in my chest again and held me hard. "Will you at least come to see me every night so...so I know you are well?" Could I do that? Could I resist her every night? The overheard conversation between the Girys and Christine being wild niggled my memory and I pulled back from her so she could see my nod of assent.

Burdens of weight lifted from her and she threw her arms around my neck joyfully. I caught her awkwardly and her sweet laughter brushed over my face.

Oh I was weak and stupid...

I moved closer to her, rubbing my nose against hers. She froze breathlessly clutching to me with a trembling ferocity. I froze as well, remembering how she had pushed me away in her bedroom the last time I held her.

_You've scared and angered her, Erik. Back away from her..._

What nonsense...

She was the peace that filled me, the air that sustained me, the love that surrounded me...

My hand ran down her back imaging it naked before I claimed her mouth as mine once more. She didn't seem scared as she moaned into my kiss, her fingers tightening in my hair. Thus encouraged, my hands roved down her back over her ass and down to her thighs where I grabbed her, picked her up and spread her legs to wrap around me as I staggered the two steps to the wall. I ate my way down her neck as she arched between me and the wall, her legs clamped around my waist. I shuddered against her, wondering if she would let me take her here in the box, against this wall, with the whole cast down below on the stage.

"I love you," she whispered as I left her mouth again and reason flooded me. I wanted to be more gentle with her, I wanted to show I could control myself. I put her back on the ground and her hands hesitated. Sorrow flickered through her eyes and she blushed. Even in the dark of the box I could see her skin darken. She pushed away from me and I pulled her back in, cupping her chin to stare into her eyes. I wanted to speak to her but I also wanted to tell Mr. DeChangy first that I was changing our agreement.

I hesitated and she smiled but not like she meant it.

"I won't lie to you, Erik," she looked away, "I miss talking to you most terribly but it's not what keeps me up at night." She met my eyes and hers were tormented. "Meg said you didn't look well and she was right," her hand caressed my smooth cheek. "Do you have a headache?" her voice was so sweet and her hand so comforting and warm that I'd forgotten about my headache.

I knew that before her arrival I had been suffering and now with her in my arms, I was not. I furrowed my brow at her. Was the answer to all of my problems so simple?

Her thumbs came to my temples, massaging gently, "Men have no idea how to care for themselves, it's why they marry." She seemed older to me suddenly, she was so sure of what she wanted.

Me.

I humbly submitted to her tender ministrations feeling like a child.

I wanted to speak to her, my throat burned with unspoken love for her but my silence continued. There was a bond between us that I didn't understand at all. Even without my voice calling her to me she wound up in my arms and the peace that filled me even as I'd hastily wound her around my body was enormous. I needed to be as close as possible to the angel that cured me of all my ails. I was sort of glad I wasn't talking. I always seemed to say something stupid anyway. This was simple. We were drawn to each other on some other level.

Her hands left my head and I looked up, hoping she wasn't leaving. Her hands hovered by my face, her eyes intent on mine.

"Do you feel it, Erik?" she whispered to me like this was a secret for only the two of us, even though a normal volume of speech could not be heard with the commotion taking place on stage. But regardless of that, I wasn't sure what she was talking about, which was a regular occurrence. I raised my eyebrow quizzically hoping she'd understand. She grabbed my face and looked me straight in the eye, nose to nose. "This Erik," she breathed on my lips, "Do you feel this?"

I was certainly feeling something, but I was pretty sure she wasn't talking about my rising manhood. She closed her eyes and grumbled incoherently and I watched her as she let go and then leaned in as if to kiss me, her fingertips hovered over my bare face, her lips so close to mine and it took all of my control to not plunder her mouth most un-gentlemanly-like.

"Do you feel that pull to close the distance?" she whispered, barely audible, more felt against my mouth and I almost groaned in desire. I cupped her face in my hands and she followed suit as I nodded, wanting desperately to kiss her. She held me away though, turning her cheek. "Do you know why?" she giggled as my lips brushed her cheek, I suppose at my one track mind and my lousy aim. I shook my head quickly. No, what was she talking about? Of course I would want to close the distance and taste her sweet mouth, right now! She covered my mouth with her fingers, giggling, as I pulled her in for another attempt.

"Do you know why?" she smiled softly, tapping my lips and I noticed how lovely her eyes were at this angle, twinkling in the gloom, they glowed with her inner light. My steady golden light. I shook my head again but slowly this time, halting my attacks for now. She was trying to tell me something, and I didn't think she would leave me wanting, so I tried to pay attention to what she was getting at.

Again, she slowed down and trailed her fingers into my hair and then rubbed my nose with hers. My eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin against mine, her sweet breath mingling with mine. She laid her cheek over my ravaged one and sighed contentedly in my ear, "It's our souls resonating in harmony."

Every fiber of my being stood on end and I knew she was right.

Everything I'd just been thinking of slid into place like pieces in a large puzzle. Our voices, our music, our connection, our fire. Is that why I'd been so drawn to her in the beginning? Yes. Is that why, apart, we were so tormented? Yes. Is that why we seemed to communicate just fine without many words? Yes. She held my heart and my soul. No wonder I couldn't function without her.

My lips hungrily descended on her and made their way down her neck. Is that why this felt so good? So perfect? So right? Yes, yes, yes.

Her neck arched for me and I knew I should stop but...

Why should I stop? She was made for me. Not only did our voices and bodies blend in a way that I never thought I would have but our souls...

I didn't even know I still had a soul. I'd felt so dead, for so long, that it was no wonder I had stumbled to keep up with her. I'd been held back in my familiar darkness, confused by the light that balmed me but now we were finally side by side, hand in hand, heart to heart and the most glorious heavenly light filled me, cleansed me, humbled me, held me, sheltered me and loved me.

---

Christine

---

He hungrily devoured every inch of exposed skin and I shivered at his ravenous need. Surely I was going to burn into a pile of ashes at the heat he shot through me, the licking flames of desire, like his tongue licking my ear...right...now...

I moaned softly, clutching him to me greedily, convincing myself that if the Lord, in his wisdom, had made us for each other then he would be okay with my sinful desires. I wanted to tear the shirt from his body and fall upon the silken pale skin of his chest with my tongue. I wanted him to push me against the wall again, grab my thighs and spread them so he could press himself inside me, like we were two pieces of a puzzle that would fit perfectly together if we would only cross that final bridge. I warmed at my inappropriate thoughts but I missed him so terribly and it had only been three days. Even when I woke this morning, I didn't want to go to practice. I wanted to wait in my room all day for my knight to come for me. When Meg pounded on my door, I had pulled the pillow over my head and feigned sleep but she was not so easily swayed. I finally got up and saw the card by the door.

_Come to Box 5_

No time or date on it and I assumed it meant he was waiting. But how long has the card been sitting on my floor, while I moped in bed? I quickly got ready and ran with Meg to rehearsal. I thought I would have to wait until the end to find him but Carlotta wanted to practice and so it left the rest of us with nothing to do, for she required the entire stage to practice.

I practically flew to Box 5, hoping he was still waiting for me. I'd pulled the curtain aside only a few inches to peak into the gloom. I thought I could make out a white blur in one of the chairs. A man hunched over. I crept in quietly and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light I noticed how dishevelled he appeared, no gloves, no jacket, his elegant fingers wrecking havoc on his hair as he massaged his temples with increasing vigor.

My heart had bled at the obvious turmoil he was in.

I crept closer and he sat up but his eyes didn't open. His face was bare of his mask and I was in the presence of only Erik as his features softened lovingly. It was as if he was dreaming the most wonderful thing and didn't want to wake. Love swelled in my chest and I reached out to touch him, which did not go very well, as I probably gave him a heart attack as he leapt catlike over the chairs, reacting purely on instinct before his eyes settled on me like twin tornadoes.

He is safe, he is whole, I told myself again, pulling him tight to me as his hands slid down over my bottom. I practically purred in ecstasy. His hands were meant to traverse my body, just as mine were meant to linger on his. His shirt was untucked, the collar messily undone, the sleeves rolled up ruthlessly, which made doing away with the last few buttons easy as I tore at his shirt and my hands slid over his stomach and chest. He made a strangled noise in his throat and bit my neck. I flamed red as I remembered the last time he bit me.

Erik felt my tension. Bound so close to one another, we didn't miss anything. I tensed, he tensed, he pulled away and cupped my face worriedly in one hand while his other arm still held me tight to his hard body. His eyes glittered feverishly, asking innumerable questions and I swayed on my feet, wanting to shed my clothes and lay with him right here in the box. I pushed on his chest and he let me go. His strong arms that crushed me to him so perfectly, that lifted me like I weighed nothing at all, fell to his sides with a defeated air. I panted lightly, gaining control of myself and he turned away to the front of the box, bending to retrieve something. He rose with the mask in place and it seemed at odds with the casual opened dress shirt. He swung his jacket back on and bent and twirled his cloak off the floor. His chest gleamed like pearl in the darkness and my eyes were riveted to his poetry in motion. My lids rose from feasting on him to his heated gaze.

My heart flopped helplessly under the intense fire of his eyes. Why did I stop us anyway? It was inevitable. By Christmas we would be engaged and I would never want any other man quite the way I wanted the one standing before me. Did it matter if he had me now or later? I crossed my arms to fend off the urge to throw myself at him.

You could at least wait until he will talk to you again! How silly would it be to have intimate relations with a man who would not speak a word to you. Or maybe I could tease words out of him...

A devilish smile spilt my lips. Surely he would not be able to stand in silence if I removed all my clothing and laid out on my bed for him.

Shame burned brightly over my face and I bit my bottom lip as Erik suddenly was stalking towards me. His clothing flapped behind him, he moved so fast and I backed up quickly stunned by the vicious look on his masked face. He pressed me to the wall, not by physically touching me but just with the force of his presence. Fear snaked through me for one second but I swallowed it down, knowing he would not hurt me. Or maybe if he did, I would still enjoy it. Sick.

He was outrageously angry about something but he battled with himself, whether to break his silence and speak or perhaps he battled with his anger. I watched him openly, wanting to touch him but remembering his graceful backward leap after my last surprising touch. I sighed hugely right in his face and his features twitched.

"If you are thinking about speaking to me I will wait here all night and all day for you to find your voice," I trailed off as my hand rose, with a mind of its own, and traced a line down his bare chest. "But if you plan to remain silent, perhaps we should say adieu until later?" I sounded so mature and I was proud of myself. Erik's face softened, his eyes closed and his hands, that were flat on the wall on either side of my face, slid slowly to my shoulders. He cupped them, gently pulling me to his chest. His embrace was hard and breathtaking, so desperate was his intent and then he disappeared in a flutter of the velvet curtain.

I breathed erratically as I left the box, glancing to make sure the hall was clear. Why did I always feel so naughty about Erik? I felt like people would tsk disapprovingly at our fervent kisses and emboldened embraces. Of course people would tsk, but no one needed to see them or even know about them. When he and I were together the rest of the world melted away, nothing else existed or mattered. It was the will of God that made us so perfect for one another. I should revel in my luck instead of chastising myself.

I secretly gloated that I had not only a man to love, but a fearsome Phantom and a knowledgeable teacher. I had a love that nothing could touch, a wicked burning flame inside me that only Erik could control. I was his to tamp or bring to life and I knew one day...

One day we would coax that flame to a brilliance even God would shield his eyes from.


	32. Fame

---

Erik

---

_Christine_

_I feel as though there are many things we must discuss but as I sit quill in hand, nothing comes to mind except thoughts of your eyes._

_My Goddess of light. I feel like a God when I am next to you._

_Erik_

It was foolishly romantic and I couldn't help the small twinge of doubt but I folded it into the envelope all the same and stood from my desk. I'd meant to write more to her but after sitting for half an hour like a dimwit not knowing what to say, I'd written the short version. She would be assured of my love and know that more discussions were to come in the future. Now, should I personally deliver it and give her an eyeful of my healthy status, steal a kiss...

I could be a gentleman for a change and just comb and braid her hair, unless she was mad at me for my outburst. I rolled my eyes. My silent angry outburst.

I did leer at her rather menacingly though, and she already had many reasons to be mad at me.

I wrote out a few cards, trying again to anticipate what she would question me about or possibly say. I passed a hand over my hair and recoiled at the messy snarl on my head. I was slightly embarrassed that my angel had seen me in such a disastrous state but then, she has seen it all already. All of me.

Time for a wash. I quickly saw to my appearance and stopped at the door, fully costumed, feeling like a court gentleman going to call on his lady. The only differences were my complete lack of gentlemanly habits, a mask and the fact that I didn't intend to speak but I was still calling on my lady. I had a decided spring in my step as I climbed from my cavernous home. There was not a man alive who held a threat over me. I no longer held any fear over Mr. DeChangy and Christine's misery was going to get him an earful from me. She was my soulmate and he would keep us apart no longer. But I had to be sensible about this. I needed to line everything up before I proceeded. I also needed to be rested and healthy looking when I went to see him. I would keep up this charade for a few more days but that was it! She was my soulmate and...

I was thinking of it again. It seemed like something from a fairy tale to be told for a little girl's pleasure. I simplified it. She is mine. I firmly, confidently believed it.

I knocked lightly on her door, checking my timing. It was almost eleven at night, a little late for a visit but I would make it quick. I slipped inside, frowning again at the flimsy lock, and found Christine was behind the dressing screen. Her head came around the corner and I detected a bare shoulder. Oh my...

"Erik!" she smiled brilliantly and then disappeared. "I knew it was you. You seem to be able to open my door even when it's locked." Her voice was light and happy and her face for that split second had looked very happy to see me. The swell inside me told me I was equally as happy. She came out in the full length nightgown pulling her hair from the neck. "And you have perfect timing," she walked past me to sit at her powder table but caressed my arm as she passed, her fingers trailing down over my gloved hand, making it rise to follow her. I moved with her so the contact of our fingertips was not lost and then began to absently play with her hair. We gazed at each other in the mirror and when she glanced away to find the comb I let my eyes flick to my reflection.

I felt powerful when I was around her and I could see it in my masked image. I stripped off the gloves so I could feel her hair and accepted the comb from her hand. Her lovely honey curls slipped through my fingers like silken water churning over rocks. I couldn't help bringing a piece to my mouth to feel that silky texture and once it was so close I had to close my eyes and inhale its floral scent. I braided it neatly, wondering at the ease with which I completed the task now for the second time, like I've always known how to do it and just never got a chance to. She turned as I finished and her eyes reached out to me, so large in her face, the golden light tinged with sadness.

I leaned over tracing her cheek with two fingers and planted a gentle lingering kiss on her upturned mouth. Time to go. I pulled out the envelope and laid it on her table, she spared a glance for it but her gaze came back to me.

"Are you leaving already?" sorrow crinkled her eyes and then she ducked her head. "I'm sorry, you probably have work to do."

Work? HA! Like I could concentrate at all. While I started pulling on my gloves Christine watched me carefully from under her lashes and I knew she had something to ask me.

"Why did you get so angry earlier?" I'd thought she might ask me that. I pulled out the cards flipping through them quickly to find the right one.

_A very seductive smile spilt your lips and I thought you were toying with me, pushing me away only to draw me in once more. Was I justified?_

It felt good to get a question in. Not speaking to her was odd but so far was an interesting experiment, if painful for both of us. She blushed atrociously and flipped the card over onto her table as if she could not look at the words.

"No," she whispered, "Not justified...I can understand though...how you would think that..." She was a little breathless and I wondered exactly what she had been thinking of when that smile pulled on her lips. I doubt she would tell me, judging from her shade of red, even if I was inclined to break my silence for something so trivial but she surprised me by continuing. "It's not that I...I don't want you to think...I can understand how my actions...When I...When you..." she rambled incoherently in half sentences, half thought out as I flipped through my cards and held one up in front of her face. I'd been hoping to use this one.

_If you continue to act in this childish manner I will be forced to silence you with my lips._

I'd thought to use it if she'd been angry at me but this worked as well. Her lashed fluttered up at me, a little delighted smile curling her lips and my eyes were riveted to her face. She giggled into her hand.

"Well, as much as I would like that," her eyes flicked to my mouth suggestively, "I don't think that would help, Erik. Your lips are half the problem."

Problem? I arched my brow at her and leaned back, crossing my arms for a better explanation.

"How did you know you would need that one?" I shrugged and waved my hand, wanting to go back to the last topic. My lips being a problem, or half of one?

"I wish you would just talk to me already," she was beginning to get angry and I closed my eyes as I was a little angry myself. The lengths I was still going to for that rude little man.

I pulled out the cards again, handed her one and sat back to watch her read it.

_I stayed away because I thought it would be easier on both of us if we were spared even the sight. If you cannot accept my silence then I cannot come to see you._

It was harsh, I know, especially when I was planning to end this farce very soon but she was up in a flash, pressing her cheek to my chest, squeezing me tightly.

"No Erik! I need to see you and touch you and make sure you're okay," she pulled back and tears glimmered in her eyes. "Don't you...don't you still need me?"

I brushed her trembling lips with my gloved thumb and nodded before pressing my lips to the space between her brows. I softly kissed her forehead and temple and followed the curve of her cheek, hoping to convey my utter devotion to her.

"Please, please don't stay away," she whispered in my ear and I held her close, not sure whether to nod or shake my head. I felt so good when I held her, I didn't want to ever leave except that my ducks sorely needed to be put in place and I needed to get some sleep and visit Nadir and DeChangy. We pulled apart and she looked calmer. She smiled at me bravely, as if she didn't want me to go but didn't want me to leave with her not smiling. I wondered if that smile had worked on Gustave as easily as it did on me. I crushed her in the confines of my chest and arms, clinging to her with all of my restless emotions and then fled before I changed my mind and led her to her tiny bed.

I should have just spoken to her and damn DeChangy and his request but there would be tomorrow for that. I would visit him first thing and end this disastrous trial.

---

Christine

---

I slept better that night, if still not for very long. Erik's little note still had me smiling absently the next morning at rehearsal. Tonight was closing night for Faust and I sat in a corner by myself, stretching and watched Mme Giry coach a few girls.

"I take it Erik came to see you?" Meg whispered in my ear. I laughed quietly and nodded silently. She rubbed my arm, "Good." Her eyes drifted out to the audience that was present again today. "There's those men again..."

"Who are they?" I asked, wondering why the dozen or more men were here again, impeccably dressed, chatting and watching the stage. We were barely rehearsing at all, what was there to see?

Meg shrugged and sat beside me to stretch, "Just some prospective patrons." We sat in silence for a minute and a conversation behind us heated up. We both turned as Carlotta threw down her scarf and stamped her foot like a child. She wrenched violently away from Mr. Reyer, the conductor, and flounced her generous curves towards the front of the stage. Meg and I looked at each other with wide eyes, our laughter ready to spill.

"I AM NOT YOURRR PLAY TING, MONSIEUR FIRMIN!" Carlotta screamed at the top of her considerable lungs from the front of the stage and then stormed away with a hand to her head, muttering loudly about pig headed men. Two men, who I knew as the managers, scurried after her quickly. I looked at Meg who was shaking quietly.

"What just happened?" I was shocked at the outburst, of course, Carlotta was not always the nicest person but that was over the top, even for her.

"She's...tempermental," Meg snorted, leaning over her legs beautifully.

"And she just walks out of rehearsal?"

"What would you do to get your way?" Meg changed positions and I followed suit. "Would you argue, demand or concede?"

"Concede to what?" I was enjoying our banter. Erik's silence was REALLY bothering me.

"I am guessing," Meg flicked her eyes out to the audience of men, "The managers want her to sing for the prospective patrons."

I gave her a look, "Sing? That's it?" Meg stood to continue her warmup and I followed again, she was the dancer after all.

"Would you just get up and sing in front of strangers with no warning?" she looked surprised and I shrugged.

"Sure. Isn't that what she does every night?" Meg pondered that and then shrugged herself.

"I guess she needs warning so she can ready herself, she might be tired from last night's performance, plus she has to sing tonight or maybe she'd just a cranky beast." I giggled at that and then glanced off in the direction she'd disappeared. "I never thought you would like so much attention."

"Hmm?" I didn't really respond to Meg because I'd thought I saw the curtain move in Box 5. Was he up there? I searched for a slit in the fabric.

"HELLO?" Meg was waving her hand in front of my face. "Geez Christine, what's wrong with you? Did the Phantom hypnotize you or something?"

I met her laughing eyes with my own shocked ones and she laughed at me some more.

"I was trying to talk to you," she chided. "If you were the prima donna, would you sing if they asked you to?"

I tried to get my scrambled brain to answer her correctly but I was still shocked by her realization of my state of mind. "I guess so." Suddenly I had a scary thought. "She's coming back right?"

"She usually does but I don't know...she looked mad with a capital M." Mme Giry suddenly rapped her cane. "I guess we are going to perform instead." Meg pulled me to center stage.

We danced a few numbers to their polite applause until the managers came back looking dejected. Mme Giry told us to go stretch and went to see what was happening. She came back with Monsieur Firmin, who informed us sadly that tonight's closing performance was postponed to hopefully tomorrow.

"La Carlotta does not allow an understudy and we have no one who could possibly take her place."

I felt like my ears were ringing as Meg spoke. "Maybe Christine Daae can sing," I looked over at her openmouthed feeling thrust out into the spotlight.

"Can you sing as well, Christine?" Mme Giry stepped forward.

"She's been taking lessons, Maman," Meg offered with a wink and a shrug, when my tongue wouldn't work. "You should sing to the patrons so they leave their money with the opera." She grinned wider as Monsieur Firmin clapped his hands excitedly.

"She is a singer?" he grabbed me by the shoulders. "Do you know the parts for Marguerite, Mlle?" he asked like a giddy schoolboy.

"Yes," I finally said after swallowing hard. Could I do this? Was I ready? Oh my goodness! Everyone started whirling around me, or maybe I felt like everything was whirling.

"Sing Christine!"

"Yes, Mlle, come sing for us."

"She's a singer? She barely speaks!"

"I thought she was just a dancer."

"I thought she was slow."

"Well, even if she is terrible at least she's pretty."

I found myself near the front of the stage being introduced as the understudy. I nodded and curtsied nervously and hummed a little warm up, glancing up at Box 5. Mr Reyer suggested the song and he played me a few bars so I could grasp the tempo and then he stood waiting for me to give the sign. I hesitated, closing my eyes to calm myself. Papa always said I sang like an angel. Nadir said I was marvelous. Erik said it too. Just relax and let it go. I thought of Erik, nodded to Mr Reyer and when the music cued me to begin I let it sweep me away and I let go of myself.

Silence followed my performance and the faces in the audience looked stunned and moved. Wild clapping started from behind me and I looked back to see Meg clapping and laughing and jumping up and down while everyone else joined in boisterously.

Mr. Firmin stood from the audience and held out his hand towards me. "Gentlemen, tonight diva Daae will be playing the role of Marguerite!"

Everyone gathered around me with congratulations and glee and I glanced at Box 5 with longing. We had a quick run through for my benefit so I could feel the flow of the opera from the soprano's point of view. I'd watched it so many times by now that it was easy to fit myself in where I needed to go.

"You were amazing, Christine!" Meg gushed later on our way to our rooms. "The managers were ecstatic!"

"My teacher is amazing," I said smiling and Meg sobered a little.

"What will he say when you grace the stage tonight? You should surprise him!" I nodded non-committally, knowing if Erik came to see me before tonight that I wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. He probably already knew anyway.

I was awed by my ability and wanted to excitedly describe to Erik how it had felt to let go in front of those people. How would it feel to perform to a full theater? I told Meg I wanted to nap, hoping Erik would show up. As I entered my room alone I glanced around thinking he would be hiding within. A single red rose sat on my powder table and I saw a new envelope beneath it. I floated over on clouds of bliss and tore it open.

_Every instrument requires proper warmup._

My heart dropped a little but I knew he was right. I did notice the tightness in my throat while I was singing. "Sorry," I mumbled glumly, picking up the rose to smell it. I rolled the flower over my face and sighed. Tonight I would be the star of the show. I shivered a little at the thought. How many people would be here to listen? Would I remember all my cues? I sat down in the dimness of my room and stared at my reflection. The swirling conversations from earlier played back in snippets.

"So pretty."

"Large eyes."

"Heavenly voice."

I stared at myself for a long time, perhaps searching for something in my face that made those people think those things about me. I could never see myself as pretty but apparently others did. I'd heard the snide remarks too but they didn't hold as much weight for me because there was very few of them.

I did end up lying down for awhile, trying to relax before the performance started. Everything began to feel very surreal when people spilled into my room to get my hair and makeup ready. I began warming up my voice early, humming and sounding out my vowels as they set my hair. Right before I was due onstage everyone scattered out and I had a moment of peace. I used it to pray.

The show went stupendously. The physical acting with Piangi was a little stiff and could have gone better but at the end I stood beaming as flowers rained down towards me. I felt exalted. I was lifted to heights only known by those who could fly, birds and angels. Just as Marguerite at the end, I was full to the brim of holy powers and as I was passed from one smiling congratulating face to another, all I wanted was to see Erik. See my beloved's face.

Nadir had been sitting in Box 5. I saw him plainly when he stood to clap enthusiastically at the end but of Erik I saw no sign. Faces and names were a constant whirl around me until I finally managed to close myself into the confines of my room. I turned from the door and knew he was there. Our eyes met across the dim room for a heated moment and I could have flown into his shadowy embrace but my achievement had me feeling deliriously giddy.

I smiled sweetly at him and batted my lashes as I'd seen the other dancers do to entice men, "Why Monsieur Phantom," I called him because he was wearing the mask, "Have you come to show your respect to Diva Daae? Did she please you?" I teased and then laughed, feeling so good and so high, I felt like I was flying. He stared at me intently his eyes full of the same exaltation and I pushed away from the door when a knock sounded loudly behind me.

"Christine!" Meg's voice came from the door with more insistent knocking. "Christine, you can NOT hide after a performance like that! Get out here!" she hissed and I looked with longing at Erik. A ghost of a smile passed over his face and he waved his hand to dismiss me. I wanted to at least hug him but knew I would never want to leave if I gave in to that urge.

I had to endure another hour of festivities. It was closing night after all and everyone had loved me. It felt odd to have all these strangers suddenly worship me so completely. They spoke of me like I was a queen, an unattainable position of power that made the men suddenly respect me. They bowed and kissed my hand, some of them with tears in their eyes but none attempted to grab me like when I'd debuted as a dancer. I hoped that night that Carlotta never returned and I could continue in this position as lead soprano forever.


	33. The Plan

---

Erik

---

I paced her room, back and forth, over and over. I could hear the din happening on the other side of her door. Sometimes the party in the halls could go on for hours and I prayed, literally asked God to speed things up. I'd meant to speak to her when she came in so that there was no question as to my feelings. It was the whole damn reason for my visiting DeChangy earlier today but instead I stand there like a tongue tied fool.

I whirled restlessly reaching the end of her room in far too little time. I never noticed how small the space was before.

I did not want her to debut now. I did not want all of Paris interested in this brilliant new shining star until she was safely married to me and blissfully happy. Unfortunately, someone was against me and trying to make my life as difficult as possible. Perhaps the very God I was praying to at the moment...

I had to claim her right now! As soon as she walked in her door. No more waiting. She wanted to be mine. I wanted her to be mine. Even Nadir agreed with me. DeChangy was not against it anymore and could do nothing about it even if he was. I'd gone to his house today, right after watching Christine sing on stage. The rehearsal had started like any other but then Carlotta had thrown one of her famous tantrums. Granted, singing day and night was tiring but she was being payed handsomely for it. It was her only job but the woman was truly infuriating and annoying and a horrible singer. I don't know why the managers insisted on keeping her. I suppose they had no other option, until I gave them a good one.

When Meg had suggested Christine I'd nearly leapt down from my perch in the box and yelled NO. Not yet! I wasn't ready for that yet! Just a few more days...

As soon as Monsieur Firmin announced she would play Marguerite I headed to DeChangy's, but not before leaving her a strict note about warmup. Was she trying to ruin her beautiful instrument?

I managed to sleep for a few hours last night with the help of some very strong valerian tea, though my dreams were particularly disconcerting and disorientating I figured I was rested enough. I travelled to Nadir's first because I wanted to borrow his carriage and make sure he was still on 'my team'. I ranted and paced and rambled probably a little incoherently about Christine and the opera and DeChangy and building a house and proposing to her today and his only real comment was, "It's about time."

That taken care of, I rode to the DeChangy's in the Karan carriage and gripped my knees nervously. I just hoped Raoul was no where to be found. I felt edgy enough that if I saw him I couldn't be certain of my behavior.

The butler looked shocked and I realized I was still wearing the mask. Oh well. Probably would be even more of a shock if it was off. He led me to the same room and I stood and tapped my toe until I heard the door opening. I turned smartly as Mr DeChangy entered.

"Mr. Karan? To what do I owe this pleasure?" he reached out to shake my hand and even though the gesture surprised me, I complied gracefully. I waited until he was seated and then sat down across from him.

"I have come to tell you that I will no longer stay away from Mlle Daae." He smiled at me like I was a child.

"It has not even been a week..."

"And I will not wait another second." I stared him down and his brow furrowed.

"The dinners are set, I abided by your requests..."

"And I will no longer abide by yours. Christine is unhappy and your _requests_ are the cause." He didn't say anything for a moment and I stayed silent and still.

"She is unhappy?" he asked softly, and my confidence grew.

"Very. I plan to speak to her tonight and end this ridiculous charade." His face reddened.

"I am only looking out for her best interests..."

"I realize I am not your first choice or your eighth choice but I am Christine's choice and I don't see how you can stop us." I made to rise and he held out a hand.

"Please, Mr. Karan, please sit, give me a moment..."

"What for?" I stood over him with a glower and he paled a little.

"Give me a chance to..."

"A chance to come up with a good argument?" my comment was biting.

"Please!" he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth with his hand still raised in supplication. I sighed noisily to make my distaste heard and sat back down. "Please understand that I have no misgiving about Christine marrying you at the end of this."

"I find that hard to believe." His jaw tightened but he continued.

"I truly do not. It is her father I am thinking of..."

"And you think he would not approve of me?" I was being so rude today and for some reason it felt really good.

"No, that's not what..."

"Because I really do not care." He looked quite flustered and I held in my laughter. How easy it was to talk circles around him today? His brows furrowed at me again and I gave him some time to think.

"Why exactly did you come here today?" he finally said.

"To inform you of the change in our agreement." Did I not just say this? Stupid man.

"That is very noble of you." He regarded me with a measure of respect and I kept my mouth shut. "Most men would...well I can see that you are not like most men. Your father has raised you well if a little oddly out of touch with society. Why do you wear that mask?"

"I do not always enjoy being gawked at." He nodded and then leaned forward.

"I have been rude to you and it was not my intention." I almost made a flip comment but I bit my tongue because I had a feeling I was winning. "If Christine wishes to wed you I have no objection. Just please, for her sake, allow her go to these dinners with her chaperon so she can meet some of society. I hear she is singing the lead tonight at the opera."

"She is?" I feigned surprise. He nodded and frowned.

"I asked to be informed immediately when she graced the stage in any capacity so I could keep my fool son away." I felt like applauding him but the thought of many other "Raoul's" seeing her on stage tonight had my throat closing. "You need not stay away from her any longer. I will admit, I asked it because I found you oddly compelling myself and feared she had been overwhelmed by your uniqueness but I see now, you are just a man in love and I apologize for my behavior."

I was slightly shocked and wanted to say a few different things. For one, no about the dinners but then it could give a bad impression of her if she were to cancel them now. After tonight, her name would be widely spread through Paris and I didn't want to hurt her popularity but I was already thinking I needed to find out who, where and when and get myself invited alongside her. Secondly, he found me compelling before and yet not now when I talked circles around him? Thirdly, he just gave me permission to propose to Christine, not that I needed it but it was nice to know there would be no trouble. Fourthly, even _he _could tell I was in love? Fifthly, he was apologizing to me? But really, those were all issues to think about later and I stood and nodded politely to Mr. DeChangy and thanked him for seeing me. I left feeling so confident, feeling that nothing could go wrong, but now after her stupendous performance, I felt very unconfident.

I looked at the door anxiously and then closed my eyes.

Trust her, she loves you, she will be back shortly.

I glanced at the pile of rubble and bricks littering her floor. She hadn't noticed it during her first short visit and I was glad. Bad enough I, half crazed that I could not get to her room through the throng of people, busted a hole in her wall big enough to squeeze through. I did not want her thinking about how crazy I was while speaking to all the normal people out there. I pried off the mask and tossed it on her table and began to pile the bricks against the wall as I thought of my perfect angel.

She was so radiant when she entered the room that I'd been struck dumb. How could this delicious pixie be mine? Her flushed cheeks and tousled hair making her look like she'd been outside in the wind. And the sparkle in her eye...

Would that I could see her so exalted every day...

The door finally opened again after an excruciating wait and I stood in my shadows and witnessed the most light filled being I had ever seen enter the room. She leaned back on the door and let out a sigh before smiling hugely at me. She looked tired, but glowing and magical and so beautiful I ached in various places around my body.

"They all love me," she whispered in awe. I knew that they would. Her voice was a divine creation and so was she. I held out my hand to her and ignored that the bony white limb trembled slightly. How can this creature of the dark keep an angel happy?

She flew into my arms and calmed my pounding heart with the press of her cheek. I held her to me, in absolute bliss, that she would hold me so tight after being with normal people all night. I felt when she noticed the pile of rubble.

"What happened?" she asked letting go of me to go and look through the hole curiously.

"I needed to be in here and the hall was full." She laughed easily and bent to pick up one of the bricks.

"So you broke down the..." the brick fell from her hand. "Wait! Are you talking to me again?" she turned, radiantly excited and I couldn't help smiling at her.

"You were breathtaking on that stage." I advanced on her slowly and set my palm on her cheek. "My eyes saw no one else."

"You inspired me," her eyes glowed at me.

"You inspire me," I repeated, leaning for her lips.

"Wait!" she pushed away. "I don't want to be distracted from that," she pointed to the rubble, "And if you will talk to me again I want to spend tonight talking, not kissing."

Damn.

"If you wish," I straightened away from her and ran my hand over my hair looking to the black hole in her wall wondering what to say about it when her hand touched mine.

"Maybe one kiss..." she trailed off and her lashes fluttered down as a blush rose in her cheeks. Oh, I was going to make it a good one. I scooped her into my arms and lost myself in tasting her mouth. She writhed for me, squirmed against my body and made it harder to think, her fingers twisting in my hair and her own tongue darting into my mouth to taste me. One of my lecherous hands skimmed down her back to settle over her rump and our bodies pressed, as I shared more then just my tongue with her. I pulled back and let her go, panting slightly while my angel said, 'Oh', and touched her lips, swaying gently.

I gave her a moment to collect herself, while I turned away and tossed the last few bricks into the tunnel, and in the process adjusted myself. I heard her moving towards me.

"So what are we going to do about this?" she gestured to the gaping hole.

"I apologize, it was a necessary measure. I needed to be in here."

"So you _do_ still need me?" she batted her lashes at me and I felt like she was playing me to perfection.

"Are you teasing me?" I purred at her as I pulled her into my arms. She laughed breathily and struggled away.

"I said only one kiss! Really Erik..." she trailed off because I set my mouth on her neck and she melted against me. Her skin was like satin where my lips and teeth deemed to wander and I licked her ear, just the way I knew she liked it, and I was rewarded with a groan of my name. I stepped back and she sagged with one hand reaching for the wall.

"That's...not fair..." she gasped.

"Fair?" I arched a brow at her. "I hardly think one kiss is fair when I wish to cover your whole body with them." She blushed pink for me but her delicate brow furrowed in anger.

"I don't think you should talk about fairness when I have endured more than my share." She crossed her arms and I saw that I'd reminded her of her anger towards me. Whoops. "I find an amazing man who says he loves me and will marry me and I only want to begin my life with him but instead he doubts my love, professes silence to me, abandons me for days and expects me to live an alternate life where I am honestly supposed to pretend to size up other men to fill a spot that my heart and soul have already filled!" Her voice had risen slowly until the last word was a punctuated gasp as she ran out of air.

Was it strange that her anger had just made me love her even more? I also sounded like a fool from her perspective...

"I have spoken to Mr DeChangy," I said softly, bowing my head, feeling shamed. "I cannot go on without you my love." I felt so very small and exposed. "I cannot sleep without you near, I cannot create music without you there to guide my hands, I cannot see any other while you are in the room and when you are not, I can think of no other. I do not wish to go another second without you by my side. I do not think I can live another second without you by my side." Her arms dropped from their defensive posture and her mouth opened.

"I..." her face flickered through many emotions but I held up a hand.

"Do not interrupt me," I was abrupt but I was extremely nervous about what I was doing. She could say no. Was she that angry? I pulled out the ring box from my jacket and knelt on both knees in front of her. "Will you stand by my side as my wife, Christine?"

She stared at me wide eyed and shocked before she dropped to her knees in front of me with tears filling her eyes, "Yes, Erik, I will."

The pressure in my chest grew as I took the ring from its resting place and she gave me her hand, while tears dropped down her cheeks. "Ne pleur pas, ma chardonnerette," I whispered, touching her wet cheeks, wanting her to be happy for this moment.

"I...I just...I wanted this so bad...I didn't think I could have it." Her eyes rose to mine and the glimmering light was mesmerizing, "I thought fairy tales were not meant to come true?" Not that I saw myself as a fairy tale hero but I was trying to be romantic...

"They will for us," I promised as I stared into her golden eyes and slid the ring onto her finger. When she gazed at me anything was possible.

She held her hand out to appreciate the more than modest sized diamond with swirling gold surrounding it. I had been assured it was one of a kind and the intricately weaved gold led me to believe it was true. Fine lengths of gold spun from the band to swirl in delicate little circles around the diamond making it appear to be a flower at first glance but the longer you stared at it the more abstract it looked. She glanced up at me and then back at the ring and then up at me again.

"I am to be your wife," her smile looked shy suddenly and my chest swelled with a feeling that was becoming familiar.

"I know."

"It's a wonderful ring, Erik. I love it." Her eyes certainly were riveted to it and my smile grew.

"I love you," I began to pull her in for a hug and she threw her arms around my neck enthusiastically.

"I love you!" It was very difficult to remember her one kiss rule while she pressed kisses all over my face but I did and after holding her tightly with my face buried in her hair for a time I helped her stand.

"You probably would like to change from your costume," I turned to the hole in the wall.

"Are you leaving?" she sounded surprised.

"I must leave to allow you to change..." she waved her hand and the ring winked at me.

"I am to be your wife, Erik," she chided me and I thought for a moment that she was going to undress in front of me but she moved behind her dressing screen and I breathed a sigh of relief. After a few uncomfortable minutes of listening to laces slipping from their eyelets I spoke to cover the sound.

"Have you been sleeping well?" I asked curiously because I'd noticed her blankets piled in one corner of her room while I wore out the floor.

She laughed but it had an unfunny sound to it, "I don't sleep. I lay here and have waking dreams until the clock tells me to get up." There was a pause. "How have you been sleeping?"

"Not very well," I admitted but I didn't want her to know I'd been neglecting myself so I changed the subject. "I apologize again for my drastic measures to get in here."

"I think it's romantic," came her happy reply and the dress she'd been wearing was tossed over the top edge of the screen.

"Romantic?" I scoffed, looking away from the screen where she was naked, "I hardly think it's romantic that I couldn't walk through the crowd of people with you and come in the door," like a normal man, I added to myself.

"OH, but you would not be permitted to enter through that door, not with people standing there and watching, Erik! I would never let men into my bedroom! What would people think if I came in here with you!" She sounded appalled but then her musical laughter came from what sounded like the confines of lengths of cotton and then she emerged in the long nightgown. "You knew I would want to see you and so here you are, minus anyone knowing." Her smile was contagious and my lips curled with hers.

"Well, romantic or not," I concluded, "It's still a problem." I glanced around her room for something other than her blankets to cover the hole. Even a few feet away I could feel the damp cold air coming from the tunnel. "I need to fetch something to cover this hole." I cupped her cheek and placed an innocent kiss on her brow, "I will be back shortly," and I ducked through the opening to head down to my lair.

Once there, I found a heavy curtain and my roll of chiseling tools, which I placed at the door and then went to my room to wash and dress for bed. I paused as I pulled on my loose kimono pants. I was assuming that Christine would let me sleep with her tonight.

I grabbed a clean dress shirt from the wardrobe and buttoned it on and tucked it in. At least it looked like I wasn't expecting her to allow me entrance to her bed just because we were now intended. Could I be the cause of her disturbed sleep? Would my arms solve her problem just as hers solved all of mine? Would she allow me to hold her tonight as a man holds his wife?

As I slipped back into her room I noticed how dark it was, only one candle flickered off the walls and her hair. She was still combing it out and I quickly hung the curtain and then came up behind her to help her finish. She touched my wrist lightly when I gathered her locks and I fought with myself to look at her in the mirror.

"Leave it loose," she whispered and I found the courage to raise my eyes. Hers were telling me she too had assumed we would share the bed tonight. She stood and blew out the candle, plunging us into darkness.

"Aren't you afraid?" I teased quietly as I gathered her in my arms.

"Not when you are with me." Our faces brushed and as much as I longed to cover her lips with mine I also thoroughly enjoyed being so close to her and not having it be sexual.

"Let us retire," I pulled her gently to her bed and she giggled nervously as we climbed on.

"It's a small bed, Erik, how will we fit?"

I nuzzled into her neck and tucked her flush to my body, "We'll manage somehow..." I nibbled on her collarbone through the cotton and her hands were in my hair. "By the way, something has been bothering me..." I continued to place kisses along her cotton covered shoulder.

"Mmmm..." Christine's fingers were playing with my hair and I didn't think she was entirely paying attention.

"I do not want to marry you so you will take care of me as you insinuated every man marries for."

"Oh?" she sounded amused.

"I've been caring for myself for many years. That is not why I need you." I had her attention now but I realized I liked it when she absently touched me so I moved my head against her still hand until it rested on my cheek. "I want to marry you so I can bask in the glow of your light every day. I want to marry you so I can make love to you every night and be with you every morning. I want to marry you because the way you speak my name is unlike any other and I want you saying it forever. I want to marry you because your brilliant eyes have captured me and I want to look into them for the rest of my life."

"Erik..." she pulled me close and our faces brushed in the darkness. "I love you." Her soft supple lips pressed on mine and we loved for a few long minutes until her hands began undoing the buttons of my shirt.

"Vixen?" I growled playfully and stopped her. "That is not a good idea."

"Why not?" she asked innocently. I pulled her against my body and my hardened arousal was sandwiched between us. It felt incredibly good to press it on her and I gritted my teeth to keep from rubbing it against her.

"Oh," was her breathy reply and her hands started again on my buttons. I felt weak but that may be because I was lacking in blood to my brain.

"Christine..." her hands skimmed over my chest and began pushing the shirt off my shoulders.

"Shhh," she cooed at my lips and I let her take off my shirt because I was a weak weak man. I wanted her to touch me. I succumbed to her gentle explorations with a few of my own but stopped us with some difficulty when I wanted to strip off her nightgown and get at her skin. I was above her and held her by the shoulders as I pulled away.

"Not here, my love," my voice was strangled because I wanted nothing more than to give in and take her right here, right now, maybe on the floor where there was more room or against the wall...

"Erik..." she whined lightly, her hands trying to pull me back down to her. I let her and wound my hands around her to run them down the length of her body and pull her tight against me.

"This bed is far too small for what I wish to do to you," I whispered in her ear and I felt a shiver rush through her. She sighed heartily and her body relaxed. We settled next to one another on the tiny bed and my body began to soften. "Sleep now, my Diva."

She laughed and held me tightly. "If I was terrible tonight would you have still asked me to marry you?"

"That is a ridiculous thing to say," I chastised her. "Did I not just tell you all the reasons I have for wanting to marry you? Did I say anything about your performance?"

She laughed again and snuggled into me, "Just wanted to make sure..."

"My silly, angel..." I began stroking her hair. "If you were terrible we would be heading down to the piano to practice all night." She laughed and her body shook against mine. Mr. DeChangy's words from earlier echoed through my ears and I hesitated, "Christine?"

"Mmm?"

"Would your father have approved of this marraige?" She propped herself up beside me.

"Of course, Erik. Besides the fact that I love you, he would have been enthralled with your musical ability. Oh, you would have loved him. I wish you could have met him."

"As do I, my pet. I would have taken great pleasure in meeting the man that raised this woman." I held her tight in my embrace and she cuddled into me. "Now you need some rest," I said firmly, once more reassured that I should only listen to Christine when it came to our love.

"Good night, Erik," she breathed and if I wasn't mistaken she was smiling in the darkness.

It was not long before she was soundly asleep with her head snuggled to my chest, her arms around me and her loose luscious hair fanned over everything. Her light breathing alternately warmed and cooled my skin and I let myself drift in happiness. It was a wonderful thing, happiness. It felt like I was drugged but for some reason not a sleepy drug-state. My mind felt focused and clear and I had a feeling it was because my angel was nestled tightly to my body, clinging to me even in her peaceful slumber.

I could not sleep. There were too many thoughts in my head but they didn't overwhelm me. I had time to think of each problem we had facing us and the clarity of mind to figure each one out. I played with her hair, twirling it through my fingers and dancing it over my face, while I sorted all the seperate issues that needed dealing with. A house for two or more, a wedding, a long engagement, Nadir, Meg, her mother, Raoul, his father, my business, the opera ghost, the hole in her wall, her stardom...

My brain tossed ideas about until every plan was set. I had an exorbitant amount of work to do and all I really wanted to do was spend every waking second with Christine. I suppose this was something else I would have to get used to, being away from my angel to prepare things for our life together. I did not like the thought of her being ungaurded but she would be mostly safe at rehearsals.

I was already coming up with another plan and someone I could ask to keep an eye on her.


	34. Intent

---

Christine

---

I hovered between sleep and wakefulness and snuggled into the arms that held me.

"Erik..." I reached for his face wanting to kiss him soundly. His lips descended on mine with enthusiasm and he rolled me on top of him, his hands settling on my derriere. I could feel his arousal again and as we said good morning in the best possible way I could think of, he began to harden even more. Suddenly he rolled us apart and he was off the bed kneeling at my bedside, lightning fast. I tucked my hands under my cheek and grinned at him, feeling the ring on my finger.

"Did you sleep well, my love?" I slept amazingly well in his arms and I hoped I had the same effect on him. He smiled a little and shook his head.

"I didn't sleep," he informed me and I frowned.

"Not at all? You must be exhausted?" I reached out and traced his cheek lovingly. His smile came again and he gazed at me so adoringly that I felt a blush heat my cheeks.

"You talk in your sleep, you know?" my blush intensified.

"I do?"

"Mmm hmm," he closed his eyes to nuzzle his face into my hand. "Mostly just my name..."

"Well..." I was embarrassed but tried to let it go. He will be your husband and you will sleep next to him every night. He would have noticed it at some point anyway.

"I think it's sweet." He was smiling and relaxed and maskless and I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever met. He leaned forward and gave me a light kiss on the mouth, "Now that you are awake we need to clear some things up." He sounded serious so I sat up and hung my legs over the edge. "Do you have the dates and names of the dinners DeChangy set up for you?"

"Of course." I rose to fetch the letter from my desk. "I suppose I'll have to write to them to cancel," I handed the paper to Erik.

"Unfortunately, no my dear."

"What? I still have to go?"

"It would not be good for your status among the upper crust to cancel on such short notice."

"So I still have to go," I pouted not wanting to waste any time with anyone but Erik.

"You'll have an escort," he replied vaguely as his eyes darted over the letter quickly.

"Who?" I was annoyed that even though he had proposed I still had to what? Pretend to be available? I crossed my arms and waited for his answer. He looked up when he was done reading and saw my angry stance.

"Me?" he looked sheepish and my mouth dropped open.

"What?"

"I will escort you to the last two for certain, Monsieur Lauzier has been dying to meet me since I built a house for him two years ago and I believe a Monsieur Renaux petitioned for my services in the past. If it is the same man, he will most likely welcome me."

"And Tuesday's dinner?" I liked the idea of showing off my fiancee to the upper crust. It was because of me that they were all going to be lucky enough to meet him.

"Count Inninbalm I have never heard of, he may be new to Paris but I will think of something," he was suddenly standing and had me in his embrace. "My fiancee will not be without a proper escort," his eyes burned down at me and my breath began to shorten.

"Can Meg still come?"

"Of course dear."

"And I can tell everyone I am engaged?"

"Let us allow my father to properly annouce it," he was nuzzling my neck and my eyes fluttered closed.

"But what do I tell everyone here?"

"Nothing for now." I pushed him back a little so I could frown at him.

"I cannot tell anyone that I am to be married?"

"Give me two days and then you can shout it from the roof top," his eyes begged me to comply and I knew I would but I let him stew for a minute. Why did he need two days? As if he could hear the question in my head he answered it. "I need two days to organize papers for myself. You can't very well marry a fictional man now can you?" he smiled his little hopeful curl and I sighed.

"I'll wait," I grumbled.

"You are going to have a few visitors today," he sounded a little angry with this.

"What do you mean?"

"I am pretty sure the managers will be visiting you to get you to sign a contract and I have a feeling a few admirers will try their luck." He sounded jealous and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

"Admirers, hmm?" Perhaps that was the reason he proposed last night. Whatever his reasons were I didn't really mind. I was getting what I wanted, which was Erik himself. "What should I tell these admirers if I canot mention my engagement?" I couldn't help teasing him a little.

"That you are taken none the less, perhaps?" he raised a brow at me and I looked down at the ring on my finger in mock surprise.

"It would appear that I am." I grinned impishly at him and he growled about teasing the phantom into actions that I may regret as he sat at my powder table to flick his mask aside and begin writing. I moved to look over his shoulder and saw he was writing to his head mason, Bernard. Not wanting to be too nosy I washed my face and gathered my hair into a tail. I shouldn't have slept with it loose but I knew how Erik loved my hair and I wanted to let him play with it when we'd shared the bed last night. I changed out of my nightgown and put on one of my more simple dresses. He was still writing and I went to look behind the curtain. The hole in my wall was about hip level and big enough to duck through but I wondered what we were going to do about it. We couldn't just leave it like this. I was pretty sure Erik had an idea seeing as he was writing to Bernard and I was curious as to what it was but saved my questions for later.

As I straightened from my inspection I felt him behind me. His hands came up to my arms and they skimmed gently before pulling me back to his chest. His lips hovered over my neck.

"I have many things to settle today and tomorrow, two days will barely be enough time before we annouce our intentions."

"Is there something I can do?" I felt warm being so close to him.

"Yes, mon ange." His lips brushed my neck and then molded hotly against my skin. I delved my hand into his hair and held him in place while he nibbled and kissed my neck and spoke. "You must decide if you wish to be a star, you must send away any admirers who come calling...you also must grant me more then just one kiss..."

I turned in his embrace and met his fiery passion with my own. The flame inside me always seemed ready to burn to life at a single touch from him and as our arms and tongues tangled, it flared to life once more. Why for heaven's sake did he stop us last night? Maybe it wouldn't burn so uncomfortably hot if we gave in to it and allowed ourselves to be consumed by the raging fires between us. He had me pushed against the wall and I was arching into him desperately by the time he finally pulled away.

"I have...work...to do..." he was just as breathless as me and I was glad to see it was not just me that became so aroused.

"Work?" I questioned not wanting to miss important points as he settled the mask over his missing cheek.

"I have to fix this," he gestured at the hole, "But I cannot be here when the managers come." He fetched his shirt from the floor and twirled it on. "I have to send these missives but I will return."

"I'll miss you," I batted my lashes coyly and he smiled.

"As will I, ma chardonnerette." He left through the ragged hole and I pulled the curtain back in place. I didn't have to wait long before Monsieur Firmin knocked on my door.

The managers offered me a generous contract stating that I would be the understudy and take any secondary female roles. They were unsure if La Carlotta would return quickly or not but they were hesitant to offer me her position. I understood because she was very well known in Paris and Italy and I was a newcomer to the opera scene. I told them I needed to think on their offer and they said they would throw in a new dressing room but I told them I liked this one just fine and they left with my promise to give them an answer tomorrow at rehearsal.

---

Erik

---

I left Christine and sent the order for a large mirror to Bernard and a secret letter to the managers praising them on their new diva. Bernard would bring the mirror tomorrow as I instructed or he would contact me if he could not. Both messages taken care of I went below to dress properly. I needed to visit the ballet mistress.

Antoinette Giry started working for me almost as soon as she moved into the opera house with her daughter. She always did what I asked without questioning me and I always paid her handsomely. I was pretty sure that she would do me this one small favour. It was not too much to ask to just keep an eye on Christine.

I knocked lightly on her door not wanting to wake anyone around so they could witness a cloaked man sneaking into her room. Her crisp voice came from inside.

"Ma petite chou, avez-vous perdu votre clé?" did you lose your key? My lips pressed to keep from smiling as she opened the door and gasped at sight of me.

"Non." I couldn't help the twitch of my lips. Christine was having an effect on my overall personality.

"What do you want?" she whispered quickly in French glancing up and down the hall to make sure no one could see us and then she motioned me into her room. Previously, we always met in neutral locations, I'd never been in her bedroom before. I stayed close to the door.

"I need a favour." She moved as far as she could from me and crossed her arms protectively. I didn't know how to begin asking for help, it wasn't something I often did and I furrowed my brow. The mask shifted and I turned slightly to push it back into place while she got impatient with me.

"Well?" I frowned at her and she paled a little.

"I need someone to watch over Christine while I am occupied."

"You need a babysitter?" my frown deepened.

"She is far too innocent to be trusted alone with the men that frequent this opera house."

"Such as yourself?" my anger curled inside me and I advanced on Antoinette.

"I have never laid a finger on any of your girls," I whispered dangerously. She lifted her chin bravely.

"Until you found one so innocent that she couldn't tell how evil you are?" I was shocked into silence. First Molly spewing about my evil nature and now Antoinette too?

"If I'm so evil then why do you work for me?"

"I was too scared to say no." Her chin was still raised defiantly and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"Did you think my face could leap from behind the mask to bite you?" her face pursed up.

"No." She stared hard at me, "I saw you kill a man." My heart stopped.

"What?" She's been to Persia?

"Years ago. I knew it was you when I saw your mask and heard your voice...The Singing Corpse." A chill went down my spine and I backed up from her slowly.

"Tell me everything you saw regarding the Singing Corpse, Antoinette," my voice commanded, curling her name persuasively at the end, as my insides quaked. She must have seen me in the freak show but I don't recall killing anyone then. There was more from my past that I couldn't remember?

"You must have been seven or eight, you were so tall and thin but your singing was...like magic." She looked down at her feet, "I went to your show over and over just to listen to you sing but I always left before you took off your mask. I didn't want to see it...your voice was...too pretty to have a face of death."

I was afraid to say anything and betray my racing heart and she continued uninterrupted.

"The last time I went you wouldn't sing and people started throwing things at you. It was mean of them but you...you screamed obscenities at the crowd, telling them you would kill them all but it only egged them on. A man came in to beat you or tie you down but you leapt about like a wild thing and he couldn't catch you. You jumped on his back and your thin arms wrapped around his neck. When he fell to the ground dead the crowd finally quieted and you took off your mask with a smile and said, 'Now who is the corpse?'" She covered her face, "That face haunted me for years. I thought you would come for me, I thought you would find us all and fulfill your promise. When you appeared before me as a man I thought my life was over but all you asked was for me to take care of your mail and I was afraid to say no. If this is my penance, I will serve it." Her voice was trembling and I noticed she was as well.

I could not think of what to say. I killed men when I was younger? My mother always said I was evil and now I knew that others saw the same evil in me. Maybe the Shah saw it as well, only he decided to exploit it. Antoinette was hugging herself tightly but her eyes never left me as if she was afraid what I would do if she stopped looking at me.

"I don't make a habit of hurting women, Antoinette," I used scorn to cover my shock and released her by repeating her name.

"So you say," she clipped and gathered her strength to glare at me. "Meg says that Christine is in love with you?" her words made it sound like the most ludicrous thing.

"So she says." I was too muddled to think straight.

"I will not be your 'watcher', any other man would be far better than _you_."

"If that is how you feel," I bowed slightly ready to leave and she came closer.

"Stay away from my daughter," she warned and I glared right back at her.

"I have no interest in Meghan," using her full name to annoy Antoinette.

"Don't speak her name," her lips trembled and I wanted to shout Meghan, Meghan, Meghan in her face but I only looked at her solemnly. Did she know I controlled her just now with her name? "I will tell Christine what I know of you," she threatened but to me it was no longer a threat. Christine knew far worse about me.

"It will not do any good, Christine is mine." It was rather forcefully possessive of me to say such a thing but Antoinette's lips pursed again.

"I read in the paper that she was engaged to Raoul DeChangy."

"Lies," I hissed, my friendly facade breaking down. This woman hates me, hurts me and yet keeps talking to me?

"I will talk to her."

"Go ahead," I flicked my hand in annoyance and her face screwed up. Was she hoping to have me beg her not to?

"Aren't you afraid to lose her?" I began to smile because I was thinking of my steadfast angel and Antoinette backed from me quickly. The smile dissapeared.

"No," I turned from her and left quietly. I was not sure what to do with her now. She knew I was a killer and could reveal me to the police. I would have to come to an understanding with her. Large quantities of money may help but perhaps speaking to Christine would do her some good. Maybe my angel could turn her opinion of me. I never imagined Antoinette was so afraid of me. But then I only recently started paying attention to the people around me.

I went to box 5 to check the wooden box. Sometimes Nadir left missives there after using the box but there was nothing from him. There was a ripped folded piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. I opened it curiously under the light.

_Monisuer Phantom,_

_I wish to meet with you._

_Meg Giry_

An evil smile spilt my lips. Too bad for you, Antoinette. I changed my plan for Christine's 'watcher' and went down below to write a letter to Meghan. I asked her to meet me on the roof before rehearsal tomorrow and slipped the envelope under her door before I returned to Christine. She informed me that the managers had been by and one young man who wanted to take her to dinner, who she politely told no to. After setting a much better lock in her door I set to work on chiseling out a man sized entrance from the hole I'd made. I was interrupted a few times by knocks on Christine's door where I had to hide and listen to some fop stumble over his words and ask my angel for her company. She was very polite and gracious telling them all that she was bethrothed and sorry for the confusion but the announcement would be made in a few days since she hadn't intended to star in the show quite so soon, but she was flattered for their interest and hoped they would still enjoy her singing. It was smart of her and every time the door closed again I would meet her smiling eyes and then return to my work. I was attempting to finish my work as fast as I could, while Christine tried to occupy herself with a book but she kept asking me how I was feeling in new and inventive ways and it was beginning to aggrivate me. I knew she was worried that I hadn't slept and if my brain worked at all around her I realized I should have lied and said I did. I concentrated on the stone in front of me and before long Christine interrupted again.

"When did you last sleep?"

"The other night," I replied evasively, squinting to make sure I hit the thin mortar line between the stones. She stayed silent for three stones and then piped up again.

"You have to sleep, Erik." Her passionate plea for me to care for myself grated at my recent carelessness and I snapped at her.

"What I have to do is fix this hole in your wall before someone discovers it and the more you interrupt the longer it will take." Her book got slammed shut.

"Who cares about that! If you don't sleep you are going to have another attack!" my silence probably tipped her off. "You already did, didn't you?" I mechanically swung my hammer onto the end of my chisel a few times. "Answer me!" her voice was becoming heightened but I continued my work silently. I had to finish this today so I could place the track and mirror tomorrow.

Suddenly she was hitting me with her little fists, "What's wrong with you? Don't you care that you're ill?"

"I'm hardly ill..." I turned quickly from my work to drop my tools and grab her by the arms but she thrashed in my grip and pounded on my chest.

"You're going to make it worse! You're no good to me dead!" she was near hysterical and I pulled her into my arms.

"Shh my love shh, I'm not going to die." She sobbed into my chest and I pet her head, rocking her gently back and forth. "Everything will be fine. I haven't waited for you my entire life only to leave you so soon. Let me finish this and then we will spend the rest of the night in the lake house," I tried not to laugh at that description. "I will lay in bed with you all night and you can tell me how stupid I am to your heart's content. Will that appease you?"

"I don't want you to take care of yourself just to appease me," her voice was muffled in my chest. "I want you to just take care of yourself."

"So you do not want to lay in bed with me all night?" I teased her gently and she grumbled something and then pushed away to clear the tendrils of hair from her face.

"Can I at least help you so it will go faster?" she sighed.

"Of course. If you could move the bricks into the tunnel and line them up along the wall as I've started, it would speed this up greatly." She helped me for almost an hour and I concentrated on the bricks, hitting the lines carefully but authoritatively kept the mortar from cracking all along the wall. We worked in silence until the man sized door was cleared. I put down my tools and studied the edges carefully, checking the angles closely.

"Now I see why you work without your mask," her hands came up to hold my face. She rubbed the callus on my brow where the mask often rubbed. "You concentrate so hard..."

"It must be perfect," I continued to frown because she was interrupting again but I began to melt as she swept her thumbs over my eyebrows, trying to loosen my tension.

"You'll give yourself a headache," she cooed at me and then gently tugged me down to her mouth. Her lips were soft and inviting and my hands slid over her torso before I remembered they were very dirty. I pulled away and my angel gave me sad eyes.

I held up my hands, "I'm covered in dust." Her lips curled and her lashes fluttered down.

"So am I," she teased and reached for my hand but I beat her to it. I buried my hands in her hair and molded my body to hers. I groaned at the touch of her tongue, losing myself in her embrace and then she pulled away from me. It didn't happen very often and I think I looked a little shocked as she patted my cheek.

"Can we swim in your lake?" she asked, which only upped my shock.

"It's very cold," I discouraged wondering if she was trying to kill me with images of her sopping wet.

"I haven't been swimming in a long time," she said wistfully and I turned to gather my tools back into the roll. Her behavior today was odd, she flipped so fast from one emotion to another that I was having a hard time keeping up. She'd gone from concerned to violent, weepy to angry, compliant to loving and now her face had a faraway look to it, like she was reliving a beautiful memory, and I found myself gazing at her with awe on my own face. All these emotions were mine to share with her. She was mine. That was my ring on her finger and now that my work was done she wanted to go swimming while I had a few other activities on my mind.

"If your heart is set on swimming, we will need to prepare hot baths for our exodus," I could never deny her what she wanted. Her eyes lit and she clapped excitedly.

"You will swim with me?" her arms slipped around my waist.

"I'm not about to send you into those frigid waters alone," I reasoned. She laughed and pressed her cheek to my chest for a quick hug and then stood back with a grin.

"Let's go then." I offered her my hand as I led her through the now huge entrance into her room from my tunnel. As I closed the curtain she queried, "How will it work?"

"I've ordered a mirror to cover the entrance and at any glance will appear to be only a mirror but at the touch of a switch will slide away to reveal the opening."

"So you can visit me whenever you wish?" I could hear the smile in her voice as I led her down the tunnel to my lair.

"And we can avoid your admirers by leaving the room without anyone's knowledge." She was silent for a moment.

"You will allow me to keep singing and have admirers after we are married?" she asked quietly.

"If you desire to keep singing then you will keep singing." I would allow her but, "I must admit, I would love to keep you hidden away and hoard you all to myself but your gift must be shared with the world. I didn't spend all that time training you to not have you perform. I also don't mind bragging that you are mine." I added cheekily.

She laughed softly and I wondered if this tunnel had ever heard such tinkling laughter before. We quickly came to my side of the lake and entered the house. Christine sighed quietly and I wondered what she was thinking but was too afraid to ask.

"I'll prepare the bath water for our return, you'll find some new clothing in your bedroom." I set about filling both tanks and starting both fires as Christine went to discover the other unmentionable clothing items I'd purchased for her. After tearing her chemise, I'd bought a dozen or so different designs to replace the one I'd ruined. Now that we were engaged, I figured it was okay to reveal the more revealing nightshirts and slips I'd purchased. The lake water was quite cold and smelled faintly of sulfur but Christine looked so happy when we stepped into the water in only our underclothes. She'd picked out a simple knee length chemise with wide straps and I watched her wade into the water up to her waist, gasping all the way.

"Come on," she beckoned from waist high in the water, the way the cloth clung to her was already killing me slowly. I shifted uncomfortably, knowing that once I was wet there would be no hiding my erection in the loose fabric of my short pants. Did I have to hide it? She was wearing my ring and knew that I loved her. She was to be my wife. The water was also so cold that I doubted my soldier could stand at attention the entire time, no matter how delicious Christine looked.

I walked into the ice cold water and stood beside her and she took my hand. We went a little deeper and the water lapped over her breasts causing her to gasp and tighten her grip on my hand.

"It is cold!" she was breathless and I looked away from her wet see through chemise.

"I warned you," I managed to get out.

"I love it!" she released my hand and turned to face me. "It's refreshing and cleansing and..." she dunked under the level of the water and came up sputtering and laughing. I drank down the joy and goodness that emanated from her as she turned her golden gaze my way. "Your turn," she grinned, looking as if she would try to pull me under if I opted out.

I was so hopelessly in love with this glowing angel...

"You are coming with me," I growled and launched myself at her, plunging us both into the frigid water. We both came up laughing and sputtering and Christine began swimming out into the deeper waters. We splashed around like children, our laughter echoing off the silent dark cavern for quite awhile, until we were breathless with happiness. I decided it was enough and didn't want her getting too chilled so when she was within my grasp again I picked her up and strode out of the water.

"Time to warm up," I kissed her quickly to stem any argument and to possibly start the process. Her bath water was nicely heated and I filled the bath for her as she stood dripping wet in the middle of her bathing room. "Take your time," I cupped her face and felt how chilly we both were. "Will you join me in my chamber when you are done?" She nodded with large eyes or maybe they just looked extra large because her hair was slicked to her skull. I took my leave but her voice came softly as I reached the door.

"Erik...?" she was choked and I paused to look back at her. Her face trembled and then she bit her lip, shaking her head. "Nevermind," she quickly walked to the tub and ran her fingers in the water for a minute. She must have thought that I left because she began stripping down the straps of the chemise and peeling the wet fabric down. My mouth went dry at the sensuous line of her bare back beneath her darkened wet hair, the smooth curve of her backside. As she bent slightly to step out of the clothing I slid quietly away.

Something was on her mind and I had a feeling I knew precisely what it was. Nevermind that our hearts, souls and minds longed for one another, but our bodies did too. Mine was longing rather hard for hers right now...

All in good time...

I showered in cold water, as I often did, leaving my warmed bath water for us later if we decided to consumate our love and needed to wash afterwards. I pulled the chain and cold water rushed from the opening in the roof for a few seconds. I'd fashioned the shower because I tended to bath myself quite often. Maybe it meant I was obsessive but I figured if more people were obsessive about cleanliness there may not be so much sickness and disease. The shower was quick and effective. Pipes ran the water to a chamber in the ceiling where I could release the valve with my pull chain and have about six seconds of water run from the roof down onto me. The chamber refilled itself automatically and the drain at my feet took away all the soap and dirt and excess water.

I hurriedly began scrubbing myself but then slowed. Why was I rushing? Wouldn't it be easier if Christine found me in only my towel? Then I wouldn't have to figure out how to get my own clothing off without ripping them in my haste to feel her body against mine.

I shivered, not with cold but with the knowledge that she would love me. Last night I only stopped us because of her ridiculously small bed but part of me worried she was not ready to take this final step. She had so honestly revealed that once I kissed her she had no will to resist me and it seemed like a terrible thing to me. My lips could take all her restraint away. Her sighs and moans revealed that she enjoyed every second in my arms and her confession about the biting....

She enjoyed it all. I was certain that if I let things happen she would enjoy herself but I wanted to make sure she had no doubts. She was a religious girl and probably wanted to wait until she was officially married.

I should ask her exactly what she wanted. I would wait until we were married if that's what she wanted but every time her arms tangled around my neck there was no thought of waiting. It was all here and now and me and her and I couldn't forget the way she whined my name last night as I pulled away.

I wanted to make love to her with a burning need. I wanted to bury myself inside her desperately. How I've lasted so long and not given in was a mystery to me. But I knew I had to ask her. I wanted to have no mistakes, no regrets on her part. I could hold my ardor for a little while longer, though if she asked me to wait I didn't think I would be able to manage a long engagement.

I paced my bathing room restlessly. I was a bit worried that she would give me permission and I would have no clue how to proceed. Would I do something wrong? Or hurt her?

I quickly went out to my bookcase and picked up the Kama Sutra. I brought it back into the bathing room with me. I would just flip through it while I waited for her, then when she came in and discovered me in my state of undress I would pose my question and we could take things to the bed, for sex or sleep.

Was it sick that I was planning even this?

No...I needed to or I would go insane. I knew she wanted me and I definitely wanted her.

Enough of this fire between us waiting to burn, driving us both to the edge numerous times.

Let it burn.


	35. Fire

**Author's note: WARNING! VERY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT TO FOLLOW!**

**Forgive me for taking so long to write this chapter but I was at war with myself on how to proceed. In being true to my style, describing everything in detail, I knew I could not gloss over Erik and Christine's long awaited union but part of me got really squeamish about writing it for everyone to read. What follows is quite descriptive so get out your fans cause this is hot!**

**Enjoy!**

**---**

Christine

---

I sank into the blissful water of my princess bath. Playing in the lake had been magical. The lanterns Erik had thoughtfully placed for illumination lit the cavern with glimmering darkness and our laughter had filled the empty dark space for a few glorious minutes as we frolicked. Sometimes I found it strange how Erik could bounce from serious to playful so quickly but then earlier I bounced from angry at him to loving him fiercely, so I let it go. Maybe he was just so used to schooling his features that when he let go it seemed abrupt.

I washed myself with the sea creature and lathered my hair, rinsing it diligently and thoroughly. I tried to keep it from getting snarled but knew that Erik could always help me comb it. As I dried myself I wondered if I should dress for bed. He did say we would lay in bed all day, maybe he was going to take his laudanum so he could get some sleep. I surveyed all the new underclothes that were spread over my bed. Fourteen different styles of chemise, ranging from simple to extravagant, some meant for under corset wear and some meant to sleep in and a few were quite lovely. There was one that was a sleeveless sheath that would fall just past my knees with a ribbon around the neck meant to gather the fabric. The cloth was soft and slippery and had a fine sheen to it making it seem like a very grand nightshirt. I wanted to wear it just to feel it next to my skin.

Before I put on the expensive new clothing I started combing out my hair tentatively and found it not very tangled at all. I smoothed the rose scented hair tonic through the strands and washed my hands thoroughly. As I approached the bed to pick up the beautiful piece of clothing I caught a glimpse of my naked self in the mirror and realized that tonight, this very night, right now, could be the night that Erik and I finally cross every barrier and join our bodies in union. My preparations slowed and stopped as I was filled with nervous thoughts. What if I didn't please him?

He was so very sensuous and alluring and I didn't know anything about pleasing a man. The first night we spent together I barely touched him and yet he managed to make my vision blur with pleasure.

I paced my room, wringing my hands together as I tried to recall everything Meg and Julie had ever said about laying with a man and then buried my face in my hands.

What was wrong with me? It was just Erik. He said we would learn together but how could I manage to learn anything when one touch from him so overwhelmed me?

I hurriedly threw on the nightshirt, tying the ribbon around my throat and then pulled out the black peacock embroidered wrapper from the closet. My heart was beating quickly as I tied it on and then left my room before I changed my mind. I made it to his door, through the dimly lit living area and halted with my hands up to push it open.

He loves you, I reminded myself, looking at the ring adorning my finger. Nothing else could possibly matter.

I quickly pushed open his door and found his room mostly dark and empty. Was he still bathing? I reddened at the thought of entering while he was still undressed but would I not see him naked if we were to lay together? And did I not just recently think of inviting him to bathe with me while the water droplets glistened on his marble skin and his short pants clung to his tight backside? I covered my face again and told myself to breathe.

He will come out when he is done...

Unless he had a seizure from lack of sleep...

I was at his bathroom door pushing it open before I remembered to knock.

"Erik?" he was not unconscious, thank the Lord, but standing, pale, scarred and perfect and looked over surprised at my sudden appearance. His disorderly wet hair and the towel wrapped around his slim hips led me to believe he was not finished yet. I was going to excuse myself until he was done but my tongue and feet froze at sight of him and all my worries and doubts seemed so silly when I could look at my heart's desire again.

"Have you been waiting long?" he asked as he tightened the towel and my eyes betrayed my desire by flicking down to his easily discardable piece of linen. My cheeks heated.

"Not long at all," I stared at his chest where a droplet of water fell from his hair and trailed a path down his torso. Which left me looking at the towel again. His hands rose to run through his hair a few times to comb it back from his bare face and I watched the muscles over his stomach tighten. He was such a perfectly sculpted male specimen that I could imagine every corded muscle beneath his pale scarred skin. He approached me smoothly and his fingers grazed my jaw.

"Are you tired?" he asked with concern and I looked up into his piercing beautiful eyes. I shook my head silently but then wondered if I was so nervous to lay with him why I didn't just tell him I was tired. He would not force me to lay with him if I said I was tired. But then I wanted to lay with him and that was my problem. His fingers played over the sensitive hollow beneath my ear and then curled into the hair at the nape of my neck. My body drifted closer to him and he held me lightly against his chest. His skin was very cool on my cheek and I wound my arms around him, feeling that need to warm him as we held one another.

"Will you come to bed with me, Christine?" the words were muffled but I could here them resonate in his chest. I nodded my head against him and he kissed my bowed head. "I...Christine..." he trailed off on my name and I felt like it curled in my ears like a tiny kitten. "I want to make love to you but I will respect your decision if you wish to wait until we are married."

Shock, desire, fear and excitement had me pulling away enough to look up into his solemn face. He never hid his face from me anymore and the one cheek seemed to fall away as his grey stormy eyes burned with love and need.

I never expected him to ask permission, especially after last night and the small bed being our only deterrent. I thought we would just jump into bed and let our love take us away. Part of me wanted to just say yes, take me to bed and consummate me but I reddened just thinking of voicing that. I knew it was sinful that I wanted to but while holding Erik and staring into his intense gaze I could not think of the sin or even the word no. I could only think of giving him exactly what he wanted. What I wanted. Part of me worried for pregnancy but that was also dampened by the knowledge that we would be married. If I did get pregnant it would only speed the process. Of course I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to have children so quickly. I didn't want to share Erik with anyone, even with our own children. At least, not yet.

I realized I'd been staring open mouthed at my beloved for a few long minutes but Erik still patiently waited for me to figure things out. He would let me decide and he would abide and that made up my mind for me.

I put my arms around his neck and pressed my mouth to his urgently. He kissed me back deeply, holding me to his body like he would shelter and protect me while he devoured me. His spicy soap was heady after being so recently applied and my head swam at how edible he seemed to me. I wanted to nibble and bite him because he smelled divine...

My hands slid down his scarred back and grazed the towel. All I had to do was grab the towel and I could see what lay beneath. I could see all of my man...

I pushed away from him and walked quickly into his room as he called my name before following me out. My heart was tripping as I undid the sash and stripped off the wrapper. I tossed it over the divan and didn't stop until I was sitting, hands clasped on my side of his large bed, waiting for him to come and claim me.

I wanted him so badly and knew it was so wrong that I closed my eyes to fend off the tears. There was no way to deny what I was doing. The Lord would know...

"Christine?" Erik's melodious caress of my name had me staring at him wide eyed. He looked slightly shocked but anxious too as he tightened the towel around his waist and I bit my lip hard wishing he would just let it fall. His mouth opened to say something, many things but he closed it and came to sit beside me.

"I'm nervous too," he breathed out. "It doesn't have to be now, I just wanted to know for certain the next time it...comes up..." I laughed nervously at his words. "Please," he put his hand over mine. "You look so frightened of me," his voice disappeared as if he hated that he'd brought this all up.

"I'm not frightened," I whispered as his other hand came up to caress my cheek and my eyes fluttered closed as my head tilted towards him.

"Christine..." his voice broke and his lips trembled as they brushed my temple and I was melting for him. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed my eyelids and forehead, holding my face in his gentle hands as mine slid around his lean stomach to his mass of scars. Our lips met ever so gently and my fingertips wandered down his back wondering how far the scars traveled. His soft gentle kisses trailed off my mouth and down one cheek and I drifted in the pleasure of his lips on my face as one hand strayed to explore the uncharted territory beneath the towel.

My small hand slid over the smooth unblemished curve of his backside and I noticed he was not kissing me anymore. His face was buried in the swath of fabric around my neck and I could feel his hands, frozen in place at my sides by my stunning actions. I felt his hot breath through the thin fabric and wondered what I was doing wrong. I removed my hand from beneath his towel but couldn't make myself let go of him. My greedy hands whisked over his hard chest, over his shoulders, down his arms and back up to repeat the action as I revelled in his cold hard body. It was moments like this that made me feel he was unreal, that he truly was some fantastic fairytale hero come to rescue me and love me forever.

He let me trail my hands over his body like I owned him and I found myself imagining his smooth backside. Would it fit in my hands?

I slid one sinful hand back under his covering and I cupped the tight curve of his bum. Erik unfroze like the spell was broken and wrapped me in his arms securely.

"Christine..." my name was growling but questioning as well and he shuddered in a long line down his back. I immediately removed my hands from him, wondering if my touches gave him tremors but those thoughts fled as he slowly peeled us apart and his heated eyes dragged themselves up to my face. "Are you certain, my love? I will wait for you..."

I hated the word wait and silenced him with a quick kiss, twining my fingers into his wet hair. "I love you, Erik," I whispered at his mouth.

He kissed me again, slowly and gently, holding my face delicately and exploring my mouth like it was the first time.

"I love you, Christine," he pledged as all final questions and worries and doubts were tossed aside. There was only room for our love. Everything else would get another turn later.

He lifted me effortlessly up the bed and began his exploration of my body. His towel was already unravelling due to my recent explorations and I wanted to whisk it off. His tongue danced across my jaw and for a few minutes I forgot what it was I wanted to do. I writhed beneath his hands, heat warming me from the inside as his palms smoothed over my hips. His graceful hands smoothed all over my body, sliding the fine fabric against my skin, down my spine and over my backside and I remembered his bum.

I wanted to cup it in my hands, fit as much as I could into my relatively small hands and grab it. I hesitated while he buried his hands in my damp hair and stole my mouth. I moaned into his kiss and suddenly nothing mattered except taking every barrier between us away. My hands rode in tandem down over his rear and I grabbed him tightly, pulling him to me. I traced my tongue into his mouth and put my reckless behavior out of my mind. It was time to just feel and stop thinking so much. So I started feeling. Mostly his backside. It was tight and smooth and fit beautifully in my hands. Like it was made to be cupped by my hands.

He was naked above me, the towel discarded somewhere and I wanted out of my chemise. I started to sit up and as if he could read my mind, Erik pulled out the ribbon at my throat. I swallowed nervously and pulled the delicate sheath over my head like I'd done a hundred thousand times before. The only difference was there was now someone looking, someone I wanted to impress, and I'd never thought there was anything impressive about my body. Self consciousness reared it's head and I pressed the chemise to my front instead of tossing it aside, knowing he'd at least gotten a quick look at my naked body.

Erik's fingers brushed my jaw and I looked up warily. He was sad and I didn't want him to be sad, especially when we were so close to knowing each other as man and woman. I cupped his face in both hands, touching his ravaged cheek lightly.

"Don't be sad. Why are you sad?" his mouth opened and I couldn't be certain but I think his eyes widened. No words came forth for a long minute.

"I'm not sure I remember," he finally said.

"What?" I started but then realized I'd dropped my chemise in my haste to comfort him and my bare breasts were reaching to brush his pale chest. I closed the distance to hide my nakedness and his long hands pressed to my back, holding me immobile while our bodies trembled at the intimate contact.

"Christine, my angel, my goddess..." his lips feathered kisses and endearments over my temple. I'd thought it was his hands that were holding me so still but then I realized I wasn't breathing. The exquisite sensation of our chests pressed together had stolen any restraint I still harbored and when Erik lay me down I reached for his lips wantonly.

"I want to look at you," he cooed in my ear, avoiding my mouth. I childishly wound my arms around him.

"No."

"My love..."

"What if you don't..." he tsked at me and cleared a stray strand from my face, looking into my eyes with a fiery passion.

"What happened to positive thinking?" he teased with a mischievous smile and a smile tugged at my lips unbidden. Were you supposed to be so happy when you committed such a sin? Erik kissed my mouth, trailing his hands slowly down my naked body and my whole being shuddered just from that.

There was no barrier between his attraction and my stomach and I could feel the hard structure and yet the unbelievably soft warm skin as it brushed my hip and settled into the hollow there. I wanted to touch it with my hands to properly feel it but kept them up around his neck because I was unsure what to do once I had him in my hands.

Erik's hands traced every curve of my body; because I wouldn't let him look he memorized it instead with his fingertips. I felt like a woman as our naked bodies brushed and pressed, teasing sighs and moans from my mouth. His hand found it's meandering way between my legs and I arched back as he began to love me. That strange heated pressure pooled quickly within me and I writhed under his careful caresses, noises falling from my heated lips. My body seemed to know how to move in this dance and I clutched at his arms as my hips rocked slowly in time with his motions. I heard Erik groan and turned my teeth to his shoulder. I tried not to bite him too hard but couldn't help sinking my teeth into his skin. I wanted more, I was ready for more but wasn't brave enough to ask or comment on anything that we were doing.

We moved our bodies against one another, our skin brushing, our tongues tangling, our legs twining, our hips swaying in time with our love until one long wet finger slid inside me. My eyes shot open and my breath gasped and I whimpered slightly at the invasion. Part of him was inside me and I quivered from head to toe at the warm sensation that filled me. My hips bucked wildly as he moved his fingers in and out of me for the first time. Already this felt like too much for me and I dizzily clung to my knight as he made love to me with his hand. The world was fuzzy and warm and breathless...

Suddenly, his hand was gone and he rolled himself over me. He paused to turn my face, his turbulent eyes searing me to the core as he whispered his love before he married our bodies into one flesh.

Pain and pleasure together had me arching back but clutching his body at the same time. He gathered me in his arms as if I would come apart and continued to whisper his love into the trembling silence. I hovered in a realm of pleasure that I'd never felt before. It hurt but the thrill of our bodies joined over shadowed everything. When the slight pain subsided I nodded against his neck and wound my legs over his to try to help him make love to me. But I really didn't know what to do, especially when he pulled himself out only to ride back in.

I gasped his name and grabbed his bottom and he growled at me fiercely before repeating his movements over and over again, hard and slick and fast. Pressure built inside me as dizziness rolled over me, heat pooling between my legs and a strange awareness in my stomach and head. I buried my face in his neck and clung to him, his hot breath ragged on my neck. The pressure within me was mounting and his rhythm began to falter as his body jerked.

"Christine..." he breathed as his body curled to mine, trying to bury itself as deep as it could, while his whole being quaked ferociously. I held him hard as colors danced behind my eyelids and then he relaxed deliriously into me, like our bodies would melt together. I followed suit but my body was still on fire with sensations and I was panting. Our bodies had a fine sheen of sweat on them and we were still joined as Erik began kissing my shoulder.

"I foresee...problems...in our future," he was slightly breathless but I didn't understand his words.

"What problems?" I heard the breathlessness in my voice as well.

"I may never want to do anything but make love to you in every imaginable way." There was more? I giggled nervously and Erik's back quivered as his hips rocked into me with dynamic heat. I arched greedily not feeling as if I'd had enough of him but I tried to content myself as I released my nails from his back.

"I love you," I whispered, kissing his earlobe, realizing I mostly just moaned during our love making while he spoke his love a few times. My brain just couldn't work when he touched me.

"I will worship you forever, mon ange," was his romantic reply.

He uncoupled us and I felt suddenly empty. I missed not only the feeling of joined closeness but I now realized I would never feel whole again without his body inside mine. It was why you waited for marriage before giving that piece of yourself. Tears stung my eyes as he curled our bodies together and pulled the blanket over us. He curled behind me and buried his nose in my wildly drying hair.

"Do you need something, love? Anything?"

"Just you," I whispered as two tears trailed down my face for my lost innocence.

"Are you sure?" his long hand skimmed my bare hip questioningly and I took that hand and pulled it around me like Erik himself was my favorite blanket.

"I'm sure," I was still dizzy and drowsy from our fast hot burning love and contentedly wiggled closer to him. Our peace lasted less than ten seconds because Erik suddenly sat up. I immediately thought he was having another attack and sat up myself, covering my chest with the sheets. His head was in his hands.

"Erik?" I touched his shoulder softly not wanting to startle him.

"I'm sorry, pet," he uncovered his face but would not look at me as he slid away. "Maybe I should go..." he didn't get a chance to finish because my worries were making up for lost time.

"I did not please you," I just knew it was true. What did I know? Nothing. I was a child. I should have touched him. I bit my lip to keep from crying and Erik looked at me like I was insane.

"What?" he was incredulous and I burned red and looked away.

"God Christine!" he reached for me, "The problem is I want you again, right now!" he seemed choked and his grip was painfully tight on my arms but my relief at his words was overwhelming. I clutched at him.

"I'm yours to have however you..." Now I couldn't finish because Erik's lips descended on mine with a frenzied intensity. It was as if he needed me so badly that things like breathing took second place. We broke apart gasping for air and Erik pulled aside my hair to continue roughly down the side of my neck.

"This is the problem, my love," his hands trailed down my naked spine. "It will never be enough. I will never tire of you." He lay me back on his dark sheets and his hands and mouth moved with slow precision over every inch of my body.

I was another instrument in his repertoire...

He made my body sing as we kissed and touched and rolled and moments began to blend together as things blurred between us. His hands seemed to hunger for my bare skin. He at one point had one hand wrapped around my ankle but I don't know how it got that way or how we progressed from there. We panted each other's names and words of love as we explored the terrain of our partners bodies. I was quite obsessed with the curve of his backside and often found my hands wandering there.

I finally remembered to touch him at some hazy point and grabbed hold of his hard appendage. He froze and the breath caught in his throat. He was tacky instead of smooth but the thought that it was because he'd been inside me already made my grip tighten. Erik made a strangled noise and I whispered, "What do I do?"

His eyes burned at me and after a second he covered my hand with his. "Stroke me," he whispered as our hands began to move up and down. His gaze held mine for a moment, burning me to my core, but his lashes fluttered and I understood. I moved my hand without his help and wrapped my other arm around his neck to beg entrance at his mouth. He moaned softly for me and a thrill ran through me. I was pleasuring him.

"Christine," he choked out and grabbed my hips to press our bodies flush as our tongues twisted together. His long deft fingers found their way to my opening and he once more slipped inside me causing my brain to misfire. Time had no meaning as we mimicked the act of love with our hands and then Erik grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the bed. His heated eyes brewed at me darkly and he whispered his love again before entering my core once more. I arched to meet him but it was odd to have my arms pinned away from him. It made me feel completely exposed and open and helpless as his body rode in and out of mine slowly. It was as if he was savoring every second of intimate contact and I writhed beneath him pulling at his hold on me because my hands ached to be on his body.

"You are mine, Christine," his teeth were clenched. "You have always been mine. You were born to be mine."

"I am yours," I panted still trying to free my hands through the haze of pleasure he filled me with.

"I am yours," he echoed softly as he entered me fully and deeply, rocking against me until I arched back, my eyes rolling closed. I tried to reach for him, to hold him as close as I could and felt my bindings with almost a snarl.

"I want to touch you," I bit out in frustration and he paused with our bodies tightly meshed. His hands released me and I immediately grabbed his small tight bum pressing him between my hands and groin as my legs wound around his hips. I closed my eyes and moaned at the exquisite sensation.

"Mmmm better," I purred and he shuddered as he buried his face in my hair.

"God how I love you..." he breathed out and we moved together, finding a fast but gentle rhythm as our hands and lips travelled and memorized.

The pace grew more frantic, as did I, and I was raising my hips to meet his thrust, trying to feel more and more, reaching for something I didn't understand or know how to achieve. Heat was running rampant through me and clouding my mind and I feebly moved with him, trying and failing to find the ecstasy that seemed so close.

He suddenly moved his hands to cup my backside and when he slid inside me this time I cried out for him.

"Oh Erik!" my eyes closed and my nails bit into his shoulders as I grasped at him in the throes of our passion. His body filled me with our love, one thrust at a time, until I was full to the brim of shining pure love. It hovered for a moment and time stopped and then one small movement from my lover threw me over the edge. Our love spilled over me and my insides quaked and my body danced under his and I barely could comprehend that Erik was still making love to me, fast and hard as he groaned my name and I clung to him desperately, whimpering at the overwhelming sensations as I writhed in his arms until his own back shuddered with pleasure and he finally was spent.

The lead weight of his body on top of me was so comforting and I felt so immeasurably close to him that I never wanted this to end. I buried one hand in his hair and let the other trail up and down his back languidly. My legs were still wrapped around him and I found I wasn't ready to let go just yet. We lay like that for a few minutes as our racing hearts slowed and our labored breath returned to normal.

He 'woke up' and began licking my ear and a shiver of anticipation rushed through me.

"More?" I whispered, feeling weak and he sighed.

"I did tell you I would never tire but that is not quite true..."

"Oh..." I was too tired to properly respond and was a little shocked at how disappointed I was that we were done now.

"There is only so much a man can do," he uncoupled us quickly and rolled next to me to keep me in his arms. "Would that I was a super human being and could never stop..." he whispered into my ear.

I smiled at the thought as we held each other and then bit my lip, thinking it had been very saucy and seductive and inviting of me to smile at such a thought. We lay quietly for a moment as our bodies cooled and Erik spoke softly.

"Would you...bathe with me?" he asked gently and I met his loving grey eyes with my own and a small nod. He rolled off the bed with purpose and staggered a little. A small laugh escaped him and I smiled, glad that he was still so carefree and not pulling his somber persona back around him just yet. "It will only take a moment to prepare," he strode to his wash room and I stood to follow that gorgeous tight bottom.

His seed slid warmly down my inner thigh and my face heated. I picked up my discarded chemise, not seeing any other cloth to clean up with, and wiped off my legs before entering the bathing room. I also pulled my hair over both shoulders so that it covered my bare breasts. Erik was leaning over his tub and it was the first time I was afforded a look at him totally nude in the light. His perfect little bum was unmarked but along with the mass of scars on his back were odd divots running up and down his legs, like chunks of skin had been torn away. I covered my mouth with my hand so I didn't cry out at all the abuse he'd suffered.

No more! I was here to give him happiness. I wanted to run to him and cry but didn't want to ruin this night, our first night together as lovers so I cast around for something to distract myself.

I saw a chain hanging from one corner of the room and moved quickly towards it as tears threatened. I reached up to set the chain swaying.

"What is this for?" my voice almost betrayed my state and I swallowed several times as Erik came up behind me.

"It releases a flow of water from the ceiling," he pointed above me to a small grate protruding from the ceiling. My brow furrowed.

"What is it used for?"

"Washing," he sounded amused. "Would you like to try it?" he was definitely amused and I turned with my eyes narrowed, tears forgotten.

"Why do you want me to try it?" I asked suspiciously and he laughed and pulled the chain. Water poured out and splashed up from the ground, ice cold. I jumped back startled as it splattered my legs and Erik laughed as he settled his arms around me and nuzzled into my neck.

"Maybe we should have a cold shower..." he murmured just loud enough for me to hear and I struggled out of his embrace and away from the chain to point a finger at him.

"Don't you dare! I would freeze to death!" Erik smiled easily at me, chuckling as he moved a small stool closer to the tub and balanced the towels on it. While he prepared things I got a chance to look at his entire naked body and felt my own body throb in response to my wandering eyes. I quickly glanced at one certain part of his anatomy, drawn by the contrast in colour. His skin was all so pale that the blush of his groin stood out among the dark short curls. A ragged scar tore through those curls and came to the top of his manhood like someone had tried to castrate him.

I couldn't cover my gasp of horror and Erik turned to me with concern on his face.

"My love?" I quickly grasped for something, anything.

"Ribbon," I blundered. "I need ribbon," I looked around myself as if searching for some. "Do you have any in here, Erik?"

"It's not something I sport in my wash room," he wanted to say more but I interrupted.

"Oh, I'll go get some," I turned to go and he stopped me with a soft hand on my elbow and a gentle caress.

"Allow me, pet," he left before I could argue and I got a chance to watch his fantastic tight bottom as he moved. I was quickly becoming obsessed with that part of his anatomy. I composed myself and he returned shortly with two lengths of ribbon. He helped me quickly braid my hair and then twirl it on top of my head to keep it from getting too wet.

"Ladies first," he held out a hand to help me into the bath tub. It was larger than my tub but maybe it was because it was man sized. I stood awkwardly and watched him climb in and sit down, reclining against the tall side of the tub. He rested his arms down both sides and raised a questioning brow at me, his lips pressed amusingly.

"If you are standing for my benefit then I thank you immensely," I blushed as I realized with my hair all tied up I had nothing to hide behind and knelt in the water. The tub did fit two people in it but I'd never before thought to bathe with someone, well until tonight that is. Erik took my hand and drew me towards him, the water lapping over the sides.

"Relax, my love," he chided gently as he guided me to sit between his legs with my back resting on his chest. He wrapped one arm snugly around my waist and I let my head rest on his shoulder.

The water wasn't too hot but better than just warm and I sighed in contentment and blissfully closed my eyes. I let my fingers trail where they would, we knew each other intimately now, surely anything else was trivial in comparison. I glided my hands over his legs, his knees and thighs, over the arm wrapped around me, following it up around his neck when he began kissing my ear. He started to whisper stories to me and I giggled at the silly tales. We helped to wash each other and I decided I quite liked having a bath with him. His long limbs sheltered me even in the small space and after some long intimate kisses where hands wandered to private places he declared it was time to get out.

He wrapped a large towel around me and I noticed as he dried himself that he was not as 'relaxed' as at the start of the bath. I wondered if he would want to be intimate again and my heart began racing as I stared at his manly parts. I suddenly remembered Raoul saying, 'Put it in your mouth.'

My breath quickened. Did Erik want that too? I bit hard on my lip as he tossed aside his towel and found me still dripping where he'd left me.

"Did you require assistance?" he teased with a quirk to his crooked lips.

"Possibly..." I teased right back wondering how I'd acquired this coy side. His eyes flicked up and down my body and a blush warmed me.

"Hmmm..." he advanced towards me and I started backing up until my bum hit the counter. "Do you desire my personal assistance?" he purred seductively and I noticed he was swelled and harder, his manhood rising to point up at me like an exclamation point.

"Yes," I breathed out, already panting with my racing desire. He reached for me and nuzzled my face with his.

"I will only help you if you listen to every instruction," my heart quickened at his curt command and I nodded very eagerly.

"Okay."

"Drop your towel." I did. His hands skimmed down my arms gathering water to slick it off my body. They raced smoothly over me from neck to bum, back to front, water falling in tiny splatters at my feet. His hands came to my waist and he lifted me to sit me on his counter top. I felt very strange, sitting naked on his counter but the heated look in his eyes made my worries float away.

"Open your legs," he cooed at my mouth and I did as he asked as he slid his tongue between my lips. The hardness of his arousal pressed to my wet core and I moaned wantonly and wrapped my legs around his hips.

"What now?" I gasped as he left my mouth to bite my neck. He didn't seem to hear me as his hands found my breasts and I arched back to give him better access, wanting him with the same raging intensity. As he took one breast in his mouth my hips jerked and our parts rubbed exquisitely together. Erik moaned lightly and his hands tightened and I wickedly did it again and again just to have that tiny slice of control over him.

He quickly took that slice back by tilting his hips back and burying himself deep inside me. He groaned as I gasped and my body tried to crawl up his but his hands held me tightly in place.

"You...you feel so good..." he panted in my neck.

"So do you..." I breathed dizzily and he began to move in and out of me quickly and fiercely. I gasped at the sharpness of this position and a flush warmed me, knowing I would never look at a counter top in quite the same way.

He made love to me standing there with my legs and arms tightly around him. Pressure and heat built quickly until colors burst in my head and I cried out his name, clutching to him as I shook. He was not far behind me but this time as his rhythm faltered he pulled out of me abruptly, leaving me with that empty feeling again. His back shuddered under my hands for a moment but his eyes flicked up to mine, burning with emotions. He staggered from the counter with me in his powerful arms and carried me to the bed.

I sat there a little dazed and breathless as he quickly went back to the wash room and extinguished the lamps. He came back to me and we curled together, nude in our bed, giving a few chaste kisses and vows of love before I seriously fell asleep, warm, loved, sore and content.


	36. Friends

---

Erik

---

She slept.

My angel. My goddess. My heart. My life. My soul...

She slept and I tried to but I lay beside her with another painful erection wanting to shake her awake just so I could fuck her brains out.

Is three times not enough for you? You already made her pass out. Who knows how many times you could have gone before passing out yourself and could she have even taken it? She was an innocent virgin you insensitive prick!

I sighed and gently traced the slope of her cheek. Not that I wasn't a virgin myself but it seemed a lot easier to endure from my side of the lovemaking. Endure, I almost laughed, more like savor and relish every glorious second.

Everything that we'd done felt like a dream to me. How was I to ever do something menial with her, like cook or eat or give her a lesson when we could be doing that? It had felt so damn good to be coupled with her, like I had finally come home after an eternity of a cold empty meaningless life. I was entirely accepted, loved, passionately loved by her...

How did other people go on with their days? I would be content to never do anything but make love to my soon to be wife.

Wife. I sighed again and removed my hand from her lips. I had so many things I needed to take care of and now all I wanted was to stay in bed with her forever exploring every nuance of this activity called sex. I knew she would never deny me and it would be up to me to take charge of things; be responsible and make sure we stopped to eat and go outside every so often...

And thinking of that I knew she had rehearsal tomorrow and if I wanted her to keep her new status as the toast of Paris I knew she had to attend. The strict note I'd left the managers dictated that by no means were they to allow Christine to dance anymore, she was a diva, not a dancer. I would allow men to praise her vocal skill, she was a goddess after all, but I knew I had not enough control to allow them to gawk at her while she twirled her luscious body around the stage. She was going to be my wife and...

Wife. The word was akin to responsibility. I scrubbed my hands over my face. I needed to get some work done.

I slipped out of bed to go boil some water. I would make some tea for now and make my sleep tonic as soon as I finished my work. There was no other way I would get any sleep next to Christine with this raging hard on. I started at my desk writing up a list. I had to get started on the house I would build for Christine, I had to get papers for myself, I had to speak with Meg tomorrow and perhaps visit her mother to make sure she would not reveal me. I had to figure out who Count Inninbalm was and post letters to Mr. Lauzier and Mr. Renaux. I needed to visit the site for the next house my company was building and have a meeting with Bernard about it and finish the first sketches. I thought I should maybe make an appointment for Christine at my tailor. She would need a wedding dress and I had a feeling they took awhile to make. Perhaps there were more feminine things I was unaware of that she would need to accomplish before our wedding, flowers and things of that ilk. I would have to speak with her and perhaps Nadir as well to figure out all of the arrangements.

I rose from my desk with a sheet full of tasks. I detoured to look in on Christine and found her curled in a ball on my pillow. I couldn't help but be distracted by such a sweet sight but when my cock started to swell, I left quickly. I rubbed the straining offender with a mild chuckle. Get a taste of something you like, I jokingly asked it but my thoughts turned serious once more. How I was so calmly planning to traipse about above ground like I wasn't a freak?

I ran one hand slowly over my face. Christine was slowly making me into a new man. A man with confidence and self esteem. A man who found himself worthy of an angel's love so why not a man who walked above ground and let people look at his accursed face? Did other men feel so grateful when a woman bestowed not only her love but her body upon them? Did other men willingly twist their whole lives around for the love of their woman? Did other men think of waking their lover from a deep needed sleep only to commit sexual acts upon them over and over again?

One thing was for certain. I was very glad I'd begun taking neem oil last week. The old gypsy lady had looked at me quizzically when I asked if she had any neem leaves or seeds with the other herbs I purchased but when she handed over the oil she winked at me slyly. She knew what it was used for. I only knew about this particular herb because of my time in India. A wealthy Indian prince who paid for my entertainment skill, told me of this 'magic' seed that would diminish a man's seed. At the time I thought it juvenile and crude to want such a thing. The man obviously had no restraint and did not want any back lash for his careless actions. Now though, I was grateful for that knowledge and thought maybe I understood why a man would choose to take it. I did not want to get Christine pregnant at this time. I did not want to chance creating a child with my face. I did not want some ugly creature stealing away my time with Christine. I also _really_ did not want to get her pregnant before we were married. Perhaps after a few years of bliss I might reconsider. There was always the possibility that the child would look like her...

And now the offender jerked excitedly at the thought of the naked beauty who was sleeping soundly in my bed. I gritted my teeth and thought of dogs and cats as I opened my laboratory door. There was one more thing I needed to get done before I went to sleep.

I had never made plastic or rubber before but I'd read about them extensively thinking that they would make a more flexible mask then my usual plaster. Just because I was preparing to walk in the world like a normal man didn't mean I was going to allow myself to be gawked at. If that meant I was still hiding from the world then piss on them all. I didn't need them all to stare and point at my ugliness.

I spent the next couple hours toiling with ingredients and my melting pots, finding the right ratios and the proper color until I'd fashioned something I thought might be useful. I was tired by the time I closed up my lab and thought I might do without my sleep tonic but then I might dream and I might not be able to sleep once I laid out next to my goddess. I fixed my drink and a tray with some bread and butter and apples if she woke and was hungry. I also wrote her a note in case she worried about my 'sleep like the dead'. I moved a small table to her side of the bed and set the tray there with a fresh candle burning brightly in a lamp.

I watched her sleep for a few minutes trailing my fingers over her bound hair and soft features and then hastily drank the concoction. I'd put in half the laudanum I usually took figuring that it would probably do since I hadn't taken any in days. As I settled my body around hers she sighed in her sleep and snuggled her naked body closer into my arms. I smiled, feeling like a man, before I slipped into oblivion.

---

Christine

---

I woke and stretched lazily only to feel the arms around me and stop mid motion. Everything came back with a warm flush and I smiled into my pillow. I was a little sore between my legs but felt entirely complete.

I shifted closer to Erik, wanting him to hold me tight but his body didn't compliment my motions. I turned sleepily to look at him. His face was slack and completely exposed with his smooth cheek pressed to the pillow. I reached up to cover his sunken cheek lovingly. He still didn't move and panic rose in my chest.

I quickly pressed my ear to his chest and the steady thump mocked my racing heart with it's casual beat. I sat up and covered my face as I tried not to cry. I was so scared to be left alone; so scared that Erik would be taken from me just as quickly as Papa. I started to pray but then remembered my blissful evening of sin with my fiancé. Would the Lord even listen to me now?

I pressed my lips together and slid from the bed. The small table set up for me by my perfect man made tears sting my eyes. I saw his handwriting and reached eagerly for the note.

_My love,_

_I have dutifully taken my sleep aid to get some recuperative rest. I am quite sure that I can not be woken until it wears off but you are welcome to try. My heart beats only for you._

_Eat something._

It was not signed but then he didn't really need to. I looked over my shoulder at his sleeping form. I wanted to wake him so he could hold me but how selfish would that be when he obviously needed sleep to control his illness. I sighed and rose to go to the washroom. I fetched the black wrapper and tied it on and took the light he'd left me out into my bedroom and wash room. I wondered if I was pregnant now and how long it would take to find out for certain. I honestly hoped that I wasn't, as much as I hoped for children in our future.

As I returned to Erik's room through the living area I slowed as I passed the wall of books. I doubted I would sleep anymore and I did notice he had some medical texts. I found a few books to bring with me and brought them to bed.

I stared at my sleeping lover wondering if every woman felt this way when a man made passionate love to them. I was still slightly frightened by the powerful surge of emotion he wrought through me and yet I waited desperately to feel it again. I always felt so alive when he touched me, so radiant and beautiful that I felt like a flower blooming in his presence as if he were my sun. Did every couple make love with such insatiable intensity, with such fiery swiftness? Is that how my parents showed their love?

I shut away those thoughts and propped the pillows on the ornate headboard. I curled with one of the books beside my lover in our bed, flipping through the first one quickly, looking for mention of women's cycles and babies. I found what I was looking for and started reading as I munched one of the apples he thoughtfully left for me.

---

Erik

---

I woke from darkness to the dim shadows of my bedroom. I was cold and I immediately turned over to find Christine beside me, smiling serenely as I pulled her quickly into my embrace.

"Good morning," she whispered, her lips warm and soft on my cold ones and I wanted to kiss her deeply but I could taste the valerian at the back of my throat and it really is disgusting. Like burnt dirt.

"Did you sleep well, my angel?" I asked, concerned that I had been oblivious to her state for how long now? I carefully studied her face and twirled some of her loose curls around my fingers.

"Mmm hmm," she wiggled closer and her naked body brushed mine, so warm and soft and mine to explore. I kissed her again, unable to resist, pressing my mouth hard over hers. My hands swam down her back, her skin like silk beneath my fingers. I cupped her round bottom and shifted my mouth to her ear so I wouldn't give in and taste her mouth. The scent of her hair was like a drug though and I traced the delicate shell of her ear with my tongue. I was longing for the secrets of her body already and I stopped myself.

You could show some restraint you poor excuse for a man. She is most likely tender from last nights explorations.

"What time is it?" I asked as I rolled us apart and sat up to keep my growing erection from her notice.

Dogs and cats.

Cats and dogs.

"I'm not sure, it was quarter to four when I woke," the bedclothes rustled, "But that was awhile ago."

"Your rehearsal starts at nine and I do not wish for the new diva to be late," I walked to my bookcase and checked the time on my watch, six forty-seven. I slept for almost nine straight hours. That was good and with half the laudanum, now I just hoped it was enough to keep the seizures from happening.

"Have you eaten pet?" I strode to my clothes to get dressed. It would be far easier to control myself if we had barriers between us.

"I had an apple," I glanced at her because I am a weak weak man. She was wrapping the black peacock wrapper around her naked form and then began pulling the ribbons from her hair. Honeyed curls dropped around her shoulders, enveloping her delicate body in cascading darkened sunlight. She bent to pick up a book from a small stack at her bedside and I realized I was standing and staring at her like a naked idiot. I turned to open my wardrobe.

"I warmed my voice properly," she said it like I might be wondering if she did and it made me feel sort of strange to be her instructor and lover. I still wasn't sure how I was going to give her lessons and not want to pull her down into my lap. "Do you not warm yours before speaking?" she was moving towards me and my eyes were once more drawn to her; the sway of her hips, her ease and grace and the sparkle in her golden eyes.

"I am not a soprano, nor a singer on the verge of her career," I raised a playful brow at her.

"But your voice is marvelous, much richer than mine," she reached my side and her arms encircled my neck, with the nameless book in her hand. "You have the voice of an angel."

"I am no angel..." I grumbled as I took her firmly in my arms and buried my face in her neck, biting her gently. Her breath caught and I knew if I wanted to I could have her right now, before I had to return her upstairs. I pressed myself to her silk clad body and was so very tempted.

The book thumped to the floor behind me and her hands slid greedily down my chest over my hips to cup my bare backside. I chuckled against her hair. I'd noticed her penchant for my rear end.

"Find something you like?" I breathed in her ear and she giggled and gave me a light squeeze. I smiled against her skin, my hands wandering to the edges of her wrapper until she burst out.

"Oh Nadir!"

"This is an odd time to be shouting his name," I couldn't keep the dry irritation from my voice as the thrill of the moment was lost.

She blushed rosily and pulled away, "I just realized we missed dinner with him last night. Don't you go every Sunday? Today is Monday, we missed him..."

I turned back to the wardrobe, "He knew we would be occupied."

"Occupied?" she sounded amused. She leaned closer to peer in the wardrobe, "Is that what you call it..." she murmured cheekily.

"Mmph..." I had no intelligent response for that as I distracted myself with choosing my clothing. One of her delicate hands reached into the wardrobe to stoke one of my fancier vests.

"You love clothing," it was more statement and less question, like she was certain of my ways. "You always dress like a prince and bought me the clothes to dress like your princess."

Should I tell her that when you've had nothing but rags for most of your childhood and then are forced to wear nothing but a loincloth for a few years it tends to make you over dress? Or should I say that I never thought anything so soft and warm and silky as her body would ever be touching my scarred frame so I wrapped it in all the luxurious fabrics I could? Should I mention that I bought the clothes for her because I noticed her lack of attire and not so I could dress her as my princess, though now that I think of it I was rather overly extravagant in my purchases for her...

I let my hand stray from the clothing to trail over her hand and arm. "It comforted me to live in a dream, my clothing helps the illusion."

"Illusion? Of what?"

"That I am normal." She paused and then turned and ducked and slipped into my arms, her cheek to my naked chest.

"Erik..." her voice broke and my anger stirred. Even when I tried to give the most innocuous answer I still managed to upset her. I ground my teeth together briefly and whispered in her ear.

"Do not cry or I will bite you."

That turned her mood around. She swatted my bum with one hand and told me I was naughty, crossing her arms in defiance of her tears. She watched me pick out my pants, shirt and vest commenting on all the black and I asked her if she wanted to get dressed today or was planning to remain naked for me. She blushed darkly and made to leave. I was thrilled that she still had such innocence left inside her to blush after what we had done last night and I couldn't resist her any longer. I grabbed her from behind, yanking her into my embrace, still completely naked myself.

"I love you," I whispered into her bountiful curls as my hands wandered over her waist and hips to keep our bodies flush. I was aroused and knew she could feel it against her backside and I couldn't exactly recall why I didn't want to make love to her this morning.

"I love you," she sighed as her body responded to my touch and she arched her back as one of my hands slid up between her breasts to capture her throat. My tongue danced up her neck to her ear and she moaned lightly, as if she was trying not to but it escaped anyway. I released the sash of her wrapper. It fluttered open but I couldn't see the line of her skin it exposed so I trailed my evil hand down from her throat to explore slowly.

She trembled where she stood, her breath panting slightly as I felt the smooth skin of her décolletage down between her pert breasts over her flat stomach, around her navel to the apex of her thighs. I merely cupped her in my hand and she shuddered against me, a small sound parting her lips. I wondered if she was sore from last night, I wondered if I should stop, I wondered if I should pick her up and throw her on my bed, I wondered if she would let me make love to her standing again, I wondered if she wanted me to make love to her now, I wondered what it would feel like to have her on top of me, to have her take me in her mouth, to have her bent over in front of me. I wondered so many sexualized things with my hand covering her warm womanly place. And then I recalled my significant lack of restraint both last night after our bath and now as well.

I let her go and stepped back, shaking my head to clear the fuzzy sex thoughts as my hands burned with the feel of her. "Forgive me..." I breathed out, "I did not mean...to get so...carried away this morning..." I felt like an idiot as she closed her wrapper and looked at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were blazing with passion and bright with mischief.

"It's okay, my love...I liked it." And then she fled my room, leaving me with my mouth open and my soldier at attention. She liked it...

Having her say she liked it was achingly arousing and I decided to go douse myself in cold water before I changed my mind and followed her to her bedroom. I dressed quickly after my impromptu shower, picking up the book she'd dropped and went out to the kitchen to make some tea. I felt invigorated and when she emerged in a simple pale lavender dress with her hair braided down the side of her neck I smiled like a fool in love. She returned my smile like a woman in love and my heart soared.

We sat to drink our tea at the table and I will admit that I imagined wholly inappropriate things while pretending to be polite. Things like tossing up her skirts and making love to her in the kitchen, on the table, bent over the chairs or in my laboratory with the rainbow lantern I'd fashioned glimmering off our bare skin. Things one should not be contemplating at breakfast time.

I stayed in my seat, telling myself that it all could happen in time. I just had to be patient. She asked my opinion of her contract offer and we discussed it. It was a fair offer for one so new to the scene but I told her it was entirely up to her. She didn't need to work as my wife, but if she wanted to, I would allow it. I brought up the book, since I noticed it was one of my medical texts, and asked if she was worried about some sort of illness. She blushed lightly and shook her head but asked if she could take it with her and I, of course, said yes. She also asked if I could go over some of Hannibal with her before bringing her back and I was happy to oblige. Better to keep my concentration on things other than her pink mouth and fine curves.

We warmed her voice with some scales and arpeggios and a few quick run throughs of Hannibal's music before I brought her back to her dressing room. I promised the issue of the hole would be solved today and told her I'd be here waiting after rehearsal. I drew her into my arms to say good bye and she deftly removed my mask before her rosy lips met mine passionately. I drowned in her kiss, drowned in her love, drowned in something I thought was impossible for me but so beautiful and life altering that I was humbled before it. We broke apart breathing heavily and she caressed my unmasked cheek.

"My heart beats for you..." she whispered as I disappeared into the dark tunnel. As much as I longed to stay with Christine every second I could, I had a meeting to attend and did not want to be late. I quickly made my way to the roof and waited for Meghan Giry.

When she arrived I stepped half out of my shadows and bowed to the pretty wide eyed blond.

"Mademoiselle."

"Bonjour Erik," she said excitedly and I stiffened at her use of my name. She noticed and her hand flew to her mouth, and French came out from behind it rapid fire, "Oh forgive me, Monsieur. Christine speaks of you so often that I forget we are not introduced."

"Do not worry," I tried to relax. "I do not mind if you call me by name." I bowed again, "Erik Karan at your service."

A smile lit her face and she came a little closer. "I've wanted to meet you for so long, since that first time, but I never ever saw you again. Were you avoiding me all these years?"

My devious mind was whirring, "I was not permitted to make your acquaintance."

"Permitted?" before she could voice her question I answered it.

"Your mother..." I trailed off as anger flashed on her face.

"Oh, she is just too much! She's always going on that you are evil! Just ridiculous!" She looked me up and down, "You certainly are fearsome but I know you are not evil." This was proving to be an interesting meeting.

"There are many who would disagree with you. How can you be so sure?" I tried to play up the shadows I stood in and make my voice a little scary but none of it fazed little Giry. She pursed her lips.

"You pay my mother way too much money to care for your measly amount of mail. She barely does anything for you! And I know it was you who bought Cecile the new slippers and you bought Christine that cloak..." she studied me carefully and then came closer still, which set off my uncomfortable meter. "At first I was jealous of Christine, I always imagined I was the special one. I was the only one who had actually ever seen you and the only one who knew you truly existed. I was the only one who knew what you looked like..." her eyes hovered on my masked face.

"You do not know what I look like," my voice was slightly harsh but she was standing very close and I wondered if she was going to touch me and she was jealous of Christine?

"I would like to," she looked so honest and open and sweet. "If you can trust me, I would be your friend." I was more than a little shocked by her offer and stepped back farther into my waning shadows. She crossed her arms, "I do not plan to give Christine up, and I doubt you are going to give her up so I don't think you have a choice in becoming my friend." Her chin rose defiantly making her look very much like her mother.

"I would be your friend," I assured her, "But your mother will not be happy about it."

She waved her hand in dismissal, "She doesn't have to know for now." I smiled hesitantly and Meg grinned and held out her hand, "Monsieur Karan, my name is Meghan Giry but most people call me Meg."

"Which do you prefer?" I stepped forward into the light, towards her outstretched hand, and her eyes widened dramatically, her head tilting back to accommodate my height.

"Whichever..." she was slightly breathless.

"Then I shall call you Meghan," I took her hand and bowed over it. When I straightened her brow was furrowed in confusion.

"You are so...polite."

"You thought I would not be?" I raised a curious brow at her and she laughed lightly.

"I just...wasn't expecting such...civility."

"I think I have just been slandered," I was amused by her open demeanor, she just said whatever was on her mind.

"Oh, no, Monsieur, I didn't mean to offend you, you are just...so different...from what I expected." Ah ha. Time to implement my plan to kill off the phantom and leave a man in his place.

"My father would not be pleased with me if I treated ladies with anything less than the utmost respect."

"Your father?" she was surprised and I leaned forward, my playful side much easier to bring out with Christine in my life. I was more aware I had a playful side with Christine in my life.

"You didn't think I was some true mystical phantom who actually lived in the cellars and toyed with all of you?" She blushed and looked away.

"Maybe I did..."

"Well, I am not..."

"But why does your mail come here?" Good question, Meg.

"There are some things I do not want my father to see," it was all I could think of and I took control of the conversation. "Do you wish to keep asking inane questions? Or do you wish to discover the secrets of the Phantom? I do not have all day."

She bowed her head, "Please continue." I withheld a smirk.

"The rumors started because of my mask, if I ever do show you my face you will understand why I wear this thing," her eyes were once more riveted to me. "The managers are pig headed idiots and do not listen to any of the patrons when it comes to matters of importance..."

"Wait, you are a patron?"

"My father and I hold Box 5."

"But that is the Phantom's box." My brow went up again.

"It is, is it?" she blushed and mumbled an apology and I was having way too much fun. "As I was saying, the idiot managers would not listen to my advice as a patron so I fabricated a ghost. The rumors were already quite bad so it was easy to get the fools to listen. My advice has helped and now my student is a success as well. Hopefully they realize Christine is much more talented than that hog they call a soprano." Meg giggled at my description of Carlotta.

"So why don't you buy it?"

"Excuse me?"

"The opera. You could buy it and run it yourself. You seem quite knowledgeable in that area and I'm sure you have the money for it by the way you throw it around..."

"Throw it around...?" Meg was proving to be difficult to keep up with.

"Your money. Christine's new clothes, mother's salary, I'm not stupid." But she was looking at me like I was. I stepped back into my comforting shadow, it would only be here for another few minutes and then the blazing sun would wipe most shadows from the roof. I pulled out my watch. It was twenty to nine and she would have to go shortly. Time to ask my favor.

"Why do you wish to be my friend? Is it because of my money?"

"What?" she was genuinely surprised, "No! I mean, having nice clothes like Christine's would be nice but no, that's not why...I just really wanted to...Christine is my friend...there's no reason to go assuming...humph," her arms crossed angrily. "I don't want to talk about that right now." Fine with me because I was lost.

"Then can I ask you for a favor, Meghan?" she relaxed at my gentle question and nodded with a tentative smile. "I have so many things to take care of, with work and what not, that I will be leaving Christine unattended for many hours of the day. Her recent debut has brought her to the notice of all of Paris and she is so trusting and caring that I think she would walk into a disaster without even knowing it. If you could just make sure that nothing befalls your friend I would be most appreciative."

Meg studied me for a long minute as my shadow waned a little more. "You want me to babysit her?"

I rolled my eyes, "If that's what you will call it then yes, babysit her for me, watch her for me, make sure nothing happens to my angel. Please Meghan." Begging was not beneath me.

She stared at me silently and then dropped her eyes, "I'll stay by her side. She _is_ very trusting and it could get her into trouble." Relief flooded me.

"Thank you so very much, Meghan. I must go." She reached out for me.

"Wait! When will I see you again?" I recalled Christine asking the same thing up here a few short months ago and turned back slowly.

"You wish to see me again?"

She looked exasperated, "It's sort of hard to be someone's friend if you never see them."

I smiled for her, "I've never really had a friend before, you will have to excuse my lack of knowledge. Can I write to you when I have some time for a visit?"

Meghan Giry smiled right back at me, "That would be lovely...Erik."

"Until we meet again, Mademoiselle," I bowed and promptly left. I felt buoyed. Meg's attitude around me was a far cry from her mother's but I did worry that if Antoinette had her little talk with Christine, Meg would be present. I knew I would not lose Christine over anything Antoinette said but now I found I didn't want to lose Meg either. I was greedy and a friend was something I never thought I would have and Meg was quite charming.

A lover, a father, a friend. So many gifts were being bestowed upon me that I wondered and worried briefly that I would eventually wake from this dream and find out I was still all alone in my darkness.


	37. Straighten Out

---

Christine

---

I waited for Meg to come and get me like she did every morning but she was later than usual and I thought maybe I should make my way without her. Then I wondered if she could be ill but rapid knocking on my door disturbed that silent thought.

"Good morning," I smiled cheerily at her as I opened the door. She was flushed and out of breath and I instantly worried again. "Are you well?" I reached to feel her forehead and her cheek and she brushed off my hand impatiently.

"I'm fine, let's go," she dragged me from my room and I barely had time to lock the door before she was pulling me down the hall. We made it about five steps and then she noticed something on my hand that wasn't usually there. She stopped and pulled my hand under her nose to gape down at the engagement ring and I bit my lip to keep from grinning foolishly. It was an exquisite ring.

"He gave you your ring?" she squealed and I shushed her laughingly.

"It's still a secret for now."

We started walking again as she snorted, "It won't be for long if you go waving it around."

"I'm not planning to wave my hands around in front of everyone's face," I assured her.

"So no dancing for you today?" she gestured to my ladylike dress as opposed to her dancing tights.

I shrugged, "The managers did offer me the role of understudy. I'm hoping they realize I'm a better singer than dancer."

"I doubt Carlotta will be back today anyway."

"Really?" I was excited by that, her being absent made my life easier at the moment.

"She'll be too embarrassed that they found a replacement," she gave me a quick one armed hug as we walked, "And one that did so well too."

We made it to rehearsal right before they started and Meg went to stretch and warm up with the other dancers. I felt out of place and stood off to one side carefully folding my hands in front of me with one palm over the ring. Maybe I should have left it in my room but the thought of removing it galled me. I glanced around and Mme Giry was looking at me and I wondered if I should apologize to her about assuming I was now a singer but then she didn't need me to be a dancer; I was terrible compared to the other girls. I looked away from her and found Meg chatting with Julie. I hadn't really spoken to Julie much since the whole episode with Raoul and thinking of him made me look out into the audience. There were no patrons watching today but Piangi was sitting out there with the young man that followed him around and I wondered if I should stand out there when Monsieur Reyer came up to me.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Daae," he bowed slightly and I nodded and smiled. "La Carlotta will not be attending today and I have been informed that you are now the understudy."

"I am," I replied firmly. I was okay with that role, surely the woman could not sing every night and I would get the chance to be on stage again at some point. I was also offered those secondary roles and she would not be able to stop me from singing then.

"Are you familiar with the music?" he held the score towards me and I glanced at the pages as he flipped through them quickly.

"I am," I nodded to emphasize even though I barely got a glance at the pages he ruffled.

"Very well," he took the music back and strode away. I was nervous by his abrupt demeanor. Did he not think I was good enough for the lead? I moved out to the audience area and sat near Piangi. He nodded graciously at me and then continued speaking to his assistant. I daydreamed and listened to the music and watched Meg warm up for almost an hour while the orchestra practiced parts of the music. The managers showed up and Mr. Reyer almost immediately called me to the stage. He announced the aria 'Think Of Me' and then held up his hands to proceed. I cleared my throat and wanted to ask for some warm up but didn't want to interrupt the flow of rehearsal or seem so unprepared in front of the managers so I nodded to begin and hoped that Erik was not in Box 5 today.

The song went well but when it came to the high notes at the end I stopped. It wasn't fair to push me that hard without any warm up and Mr. Reyer abruptly stopped the musicians.

"That was not the finish I was looking for. Is there a problem, Mlle Daae?"

"The notes are within my range," I assured him, "But I do not believe I should attempt it with so little warm up," I was trying to be subtle.

He bristled slightly, "La Carlotta has never complained of my methods." I wanted to mention that she had more experience and maybe it was why she screeched sometimes but held my tongue and bowed my head.

"Forgive me Monsieur, my singing instructor is very adamant about warm up so as not to strain my vocal chords."

"Give her some warm up, Reyer," Monsieur Firmin demanded from next to Piangi. Mr. Reyer got even stiffer and raised his hands again.

"Some arpeggios?" his voice and lips were tight and I hated that I'd made him angry. As I sang the scaling notes higher and higher I knew I would have to speak with him later when no one was around to try to clear this up. We tried the song again after roughly ten minutes of scales and when the ending came this time I hit the high notes with confidence. Mr. Reyer looked a little shocked and the managers stood to clap excitedly.

"Brava!" they exploded and even Piangi clapped for me. I curtsied demurely and waited to be told what to do. Mr. Reyer tapped his music stand and called out.

"Principal dancers for the opening ballet!"

Thus dismissed, I left the stage and Piangi approached me.

"You are marvelously talented, Mlle Daae."

"Thank you," I bowed my head as he raised my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"I look forward to working with you," and he shasshayed his bulk around me and he and his assistant took to the stage as if he knew his part was next. Which it was. I watched the rest of rehearsals unfold from my seat in the front row. The managers asked me briefly if I'd had enough time to think on their offer and I told them I would accept it. They ran off to write it up and said they'd bring it at the end of rehearsal for me to read and sign. When everyone broke for lunch, Meg gestured for me but I waved her off for a second. Now was a perfect opportunity to speak with the conductor.

"Monsieur Reyer?" I started quietly and he turned proudly, his eyebrow raised, reminding me very much of my fiancé. "I feel we may have gotten off on a bad foot. I may not have the experience that La Carlotta does but it has been drilled into me that warming up the throat is tantamount to reaching the notes effortlessly. Otherwise you risk ruining your instrument. If you would prefer me to come to rehearsal early so we do not have to bore everyone with my scales..."

"Even your scales are not a bore," he was quick to interject. I smiled bashfully at his compliment.

"Thank you but I must stress my need for the extra warm up. Should I try to warm up before arriving? I thought with the musicians here ready to play...I thought..." I was getting flustered because I was assuming I would be granted privileges, like warming up with the orchestra, but he took pity on me.

"Forgive me, Mlle, I am so used to barking and everyone taking my orders, well everyone except for Carlotta," he smiled. "Now that I am aware you would like the warm up that she does not require I am happy to oblige. Will twenty minutes be enough?" He was being very polite and I wondered if me hitting every one of the high notes at the end of 'Think Of Me' is what now garnered me his respect.

"That will be perfect," I grinned. "Thank you."

As I turned to leave two of the violinists whispered to one another, "Did you see the ring?"

"See it? It practically blinded me."

"New girl thinks the De Changy name will carry her to fame..."

"I don't know, she is pretty good..."

"Carlotta will eat her alive..."

I kept my feet moving towards Meg because I couldn't think of what else to do. My French was still lacking a little but I was pretty sure that I understood what had been said. And the name De Changy was unmistakable. They must have read the paper and now with the ring on my finger....

Oh dear, Erik was not going to be happy...

---

Erik

---

Before I left the opera I wrote two separate, short letters to Mr. Lauzier and Mr. Renaux asking for an audience the night of Christine's planned dinners. They explained that she was my student and due to the fact that she had debuted, required my escort. I checked the wooden box for messages because Bernard would have written if he couldn't get the mirror by today, but then perhaps Mme Giry decided she no longer wished to work for me.

I grumbled to myself as I left the dark recesses of my opera to head to Nadir's. I felt like I was going there a lot more lately and I pondered that as the brougham jolted along. I had always been welcome but just never took up the opportunity to go. Of course, I needed him right now and that was why I was headed over. I felt bad for relying so heavily on his involvement. Was I not man enough to shoulder all the responsibility my new role at Christine's side garnered me? Or was it because I was not normal enough...

Besides any of my usual insecurities, Nadir did say he would help with my papers and I wanted to ask him about weddings and he needed to make the announcement soon and I wanted help finding out who Count Inninbalm was...

Too many things happening all at once. It was slightly disconcerting. Would I be able to keep everything together?

When I arrived I didn't bother to knock and force Berou to be in my presence so I just walked in and went looking for Nadir. He was in the back garden sitting in the morning sunlight with his eyes closed. I came up silently beside him.

"Sleeping, old man?" I startled him and he turned his disapproving gaze my way.

"Sneaking around, Erik?" I laughed and he gestured for me to sit with him. A smile slowly spread on his face, "I am guessing she said yes?"

I nodded and felt so light and happy, so carefree that I lifted off my mask and closed my eyes to feel the glorious sun upon my face. Soon winter was going to pounce on us with a vengeance but right now I sighed happily.

"She said yes," just saying it out loud made that familiar pressure build in my chest. "I love her so much Nadir." I furrowed my brow, "Is it normal to feel so...so overwhelmed and yet so sure...so protective and possessive and yet..." I trailed off thinking of my angel. Nadir laughed gently.

"Love is many things, Erik," he sighed himself and closed his eyes to take in the last of autumn's sun. "It is the greatest wonder in this world, the thing that men will die for, whether it is love of a country, a god or of a woman. It is powerful and yet gentle, simple and easy but beautiful and sad, sometimes also painful but so exquisite that once it touches you, you are never the same..."

I knew he was thinking of his family, long dead and so far away.

"You still love them even after all this time..." it was hard for me to speak of things I was only just learning about but I suddenly realized how meaningful it was to be sitting like any man, maskless in the open, in the sun, talking to the man I thought of as my father. I couldn't let this opportunity pass.

"Once you've given someone your heart, your very soul, it is impossible to take it back," his voice betrayed his pain though he kept his eyes closed. Perhaps they were filling with tears and he did not wish to cry in front of me.

"You still love your wife..." with Christine beside me I could understand how a woman controls a man's life so completely but if she was dead....

My throat clenched. I think I would die slowly and painfully day after day, shriveling up until nothing was left of me. Nadir was studying me now.

"Could you imagine giving your heart to another if Christine were to pass?" the thought destroyed me.

"No! Never!" I was apalled he would even say such a thing.

"And you think my wife meant any less to me?" his eyebrow curved upward in question. I breathed erratically and tried to sort the facts out.

"So everyone does feel this way? So frantic and yet mostly calm. So crazy that you think you've gone insane and yet so sure...Do you believe that some people find their perfect mate, a soul mate?" I searched his face for answers.

"I believe it." The answer was there in his sad eyes.

"Tell me about her," I suddenly wanted to hear about his wife and child. I wanted to know everything of his life before me. Everything he could tell me about love. He smiled a little but it wasn't entirely happy.

"What do you wish to hear? How I was bewitched by a girl with stormy grey eyes when I myself was practically a man? How I waited for her until she was sixteen, rejecting every woman my parents brought before me? How I pledged her my life against my father's wishes and my mother's tears? That I left my vast inheritance behind to work and toil and be with my beautiful bride? That our life together was wonderful but achingly short? Our child ill and eventually crippled?" tears finally brimmed in his eyes. "Everyone has pain in their life Erik. But there is always light. You only have to know where to look, and to recognize it when you find it."

We were silent for a few minutes until I spoke quietly, "I'm sorry for bringing up your pain. I have no right to..."

"Oh stop it," he waved his hand irritated. "You have every right to ask me questions. Do you even have any clue why I brought you home with me that day?"

Another thing we never spoke of. How is it that Nadir and I spoke of everything and yet spoke of nothing?

"I assumed you felt sorry for me," I twirled the mask between my fingers.

"Perhaps I did but it was because you had his hair, his build, her eyes..." I looked up confused.

"His..."

"Reza." The name hovered in the warm morning air around us, curling in my ears as if it longed to be cherished one last time and then it was swept away by a crisp blast of wind. I looked like his son? My mouth was open in shock but his eyes were closed again. "I've always loved you Erik and just never...was it truly misplaced love...you speak of feeling crazy...insane...I never really could tell if I was crazy or if I'd been blessed with another chance at happiness or even how to show you or tell you...and...and you were so withdrawn...I tried...and then I betrayed you in the worst way and...I wanted to be punished forever for it...mostly I thought I had finally slipped into insanity...I truly thought you were him for awhile...but none of that matters anymore..."

I had no idea what to say and after a brief pause he continued with more composure.

"Forgive me for ruining your peace. I always seem to do that to you. I am so very glad that Christine has accepted your proposal. I know you will be very happy together. I will have it announced by Wednesday. Your birth certificate is inside on my desk. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to be alone right now."

He seemed balanced on a knife blade, like he was holding in every emotion until I left him. I was in physical pain at the thought of leaving him like this and it was a revelation of sorts for me.

"You have always been my only father," I said quietly as I pushed the mask back in place.

"You _are_ my son, Erik." His head was bowed and I absurdedly wanted to hold him close to me as I often did with Christine. Was that how children and parents acted? My mother never held me or told me she loved me but I stood over him, his declaration still ringing in my ears and wanted to hold his aging body next to mine with such intensity. I reached out and touched his shoulder, unsure as a young boy.

His vivid green eyes lifted and I could see that he thought his misplaced love for me would drive me away. I could see he was sad, hurting and alone. I never realized that other people could feel as alone as I did when they lived in the world and I could not.

"I...," I wanted to tell him I loved him too but it felt so strange. My grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Go Erik," he absolved me of doing or saying anything, "Will I see you both on Sunday?"

I nodded with a tight throat and he smiled.

"Good, now go before you get burned by the sun, I highly doubt you ever spend so much time in it. My weathered skin can take it." He sounded more like himself and I walked away slowly, obeying his commands like any good son would do. New and strange loving sensations floated through me and I wasn't sure if it was normal for a man to feel so much for another man. Was it okay because I saw him as my father or was it just perverse?

I found my new birth certificate on his desk and almost raced back out to him to demand he take it back.

The name written on the old yellowed paper was Erek Karan. It was a one hundred percent authentic birth certificate from Tehran in 1849, with my name over where the name Reza should be, which made me 32 and gave me a birthday of March 9. I held the paper to my nose and could detect the very faint chemical smell of the solvent required to dissolve ink from paper.

I left his home feeling such emotion that tears slipped my eyes for a few minutes in the confines of the brougham. He was wiping out the existence of his true son for me to be born in his place. I would make sure he never regretted it. I would ask Christine what a father needs from their child and whatever it was I would give it.

I composed myself by the time I reached the opera and Bernard was already waiting for me by the side entrance. He greeted me politely and said the mirror was around the back. He asked if I needed help moving and installing it and I nodded, keeping up the conversation by mentioning that we needed to meet soon to discuss the next house. I also brought up my new project on Nadir's estate and Bernard, ever ready to lend a hand, asked if I would need help with that one. I said I would let him know. As much as I wanted to build the entire house for Christine all by myself I knew it was a little overzealous of me.

We moved the mirror into the tunnel and Bernard glanced at the curtain covered entrance to one of the dorm rooms. He didn't say anything but I could see the questions in his eyes.

"Is that all then?" he asked politely.

"Yes, thank you for your aid and your swiftness in getting this to me." I gestured at the mirror and he nodded and then took his leave. He'd looked a little surprised at my appreciation and I wondered if I didn't often thank him? Or maybe he just thought me even stranger now than he already did? Unimportant, I suppose, as long as he continued to work for me.

I worked diligently for 5 straight hours, installing the special track and placing the mirror carefully upon it, as well as filing down the edges of the stone to ensure the mirror would not break when opened and closed frequently. I was so engrossed that I didn't even hear the key in the lock.

"Erik!" she sounded delighted to see me and I wiped the dust from my hands quickly on my pant legs as she flew into my arms.

"My love..." I greeted her and embraced her thoroughly. The morning with Nadir had somehow made me feel more vulnerable and more needy and I held her extra tight before I noticed her hair was not still braided as I had assumed. "What have you done to your hair?" To say I was displeased with the long straight sleek lines it created down her back would be understating things. Her curls were gone, as if they had never been, and I desperately mourned their passing.

"They ironed it to see what it would look like."

"Who is they?" my voice had heat to it, as if I would hunt 'they' down. "Is it..." please no, "Permanent?"

"No," she had the audacity to laugh and I growled as I drew her in, nose to nose.

"Good. I never want to see it like this again."

"Calm down, my heart," she patted my cheek and then pried herself from my arms. My lips twitched because part of me just kept falling deeper and deeper in love with her, and part of me wanted to demand that she never allow anyone to press her hair ever again, and part of me wanted to press her to the wall to devour her...

"It's marvelous, Erik," she was inspecting the edge. "You can't even tell it will open. How does it work?"

"The switch is on the other side," I kept my eyes from my gross reflection and on her. She turned to me with a small frown.

"Why not on both sides?"

"I don't want you getting lost in those tunnels."

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, "If you would show me the way I wouldn't get lost."

"Can I not escort you every time?" I bantered back but then really did not want to fight with her. "Truthfully, I thought it might be safer with the chance of other people in your room that it only open from the other side. Imagine explaining why your mirror suddenly opened to a dark passageway if someone happened to randomly lean in the wrong place."

"True," she conceeded slowly looking at the mirror and then back at me. "So how often will you be entering through here?" My mouth opened but I did not get a chance to speak. "How will you know if I have company or if I am in a state of undress, or do you plan to barge in whenever you feel like it? And once you are here, how will you leave through this passage if it does not open from the inside?" Her curious golden eyes twinkled merrily at me.

"I plan to never leave," I vowed as I took her in my arms. She laughed for me and trailed her fingers into my hair.

"Maybe I will never let you leave..." I leaned down to kiss her but she pulled back just as my lips touched hers. "No distracting me, Erik. How will we use it?" she repeated and I sighed and spoke rapidly.

"The mirror is one way, from the tunnel you can see within. The curtain is hung so you can cover the entrance if you are not ready for my company or if you do not wish for my company. I thought this could be used as more of a dressing room for you and you could stay with me until I build us a proper house."

"I will never close the curtain." Her body squirmed against me delicately, "Now where were we..." she pulled me back down but as my hands trailed through her straight hair I felt like she was not my woman and I pulled away this time.

"What will cure this ailment?" I let her hair fall from my hands.

"Water," she quirked an eyebrow at me quizzically.

"Quickly get ready so we can go and I can throw you in the lake."

She giggled, "I'd rather have another bath with you." My eyes locked on her but hers stayed down and I detected a rosy blush blooming on her cheeks as she bit her lip. Well, that sounded delightful to me.

I left her room and moved through the shadows of the hall to the tunnel and then stood at the window to her room in my dark passageway. She was waiting for me, gazing into the mirror, trying to see past her reflection and I stared at her marveling for the thousandth time that she was mine. I pressed the mechanism and the mirror slid away.

Christine's eyes marveled at the wonder and then she grinned at me and held out her hand.

"Monsieur Phantom, are you my escort this evening?" she stepped through and I slid the curtain half closed and then allowed the mirror to close. We quickly moved through the tunnels aided by the light from my lantern. I refrained from throwing her in the lake and as we waited for the bathwater to heat we ate a small dinner and I found out how rehearsal had gone.

The hog was still absent and Christine mentioned her encounter with the conductor.

"He is jealous," I explained, "With Carlotta as lead, his music easily out shines her but with you as lead...now it will be different." She pushed me playfully as I left the kitchen to check the bath water.

"If you keep complimenting me I'm going to get a swelled head."

I muttered under my breath about giving her my swelled head but she heard nothing as she turned to clear the dishes. The water was ready for us and I tended the fire in my room, which cleverly also heats my bath water. I removed my jacket and hung it, looking at my large bed wondering if Christine would sleep with me again and let me love her again. I started to leave my room and suddenly Christine was in front of me in the doorway.

We bumped and she stumbled back a little and I reached to catch her as we both spoke.

"I was just coming to get you..."

"I was just coming to find you..."

We laughed and I could hardly believe that this was my new future, she was my future. I led her into the bath room and her eyes stayed down on the ground as her cheeks bled red. Oh, my innocent vixen...

I lifted her chin slowly, "Your blushes are so enticing..." I pulled her lips to mine and let my hands wander down her back.

"Mmmph..." she mewled into my kiss and I began undoing the back of her dress. Her hands wandered themselves, tracing my backside through my pants and then traveling to my vest and shirt to begin on the buttons. By the time our clothing was undone I was fully aroused and wanting her before I fixed the problem of her hair. I helped her slide out of her dress and she quickly pushed the layers off my shoulders. The corset hugged her waist tightly and I itched to just cut it off of her when her trembling hands tried to grasp the ties of my pants. My swollen cock jerked excitedly at the gentle touch of her hands and I took her wrists gently.

"Christine..." I breathed closing my eyes. She drove me to the edge without even trying...

"How do you undo them?" she whispered as her fingers fumbled and my body jerked as she touched me again. She paused and looked up at me while I floundered in my lust for her. "Do you like that?" she asked coyly, gently running her fingers over my imprisoned shaft.

I practically groaned for her and she giggled. I silenced her laughter with a searing kiss, bending myself over her to possess her with my tongue in her mouth and my hands splayed on her back. She made a noise and clutched at me, kissing me back so hard that our teeth rubbed as our tongues danced. My fingers were frantically trying to undo her corset and her nails were biting into my shoulders.

When the wall appeared for me to press her against, I realized I'd backed her into it. I wanted to forget the remainder of our clothing, lift her body around mine, release my hard desire and drop her upon it and thrust her mindlessly into the stone wall but I somehow found the control to let go and step back, breathing hard. Calm yourself Erik...later...give her time...

She stared at me, also breathing hard, and was she trembling where she leaned against the wall? It was hard for me to tell in my state...

"Take off your pants," her husky soft voice commanded and I stood still for a minute, our eyes burning into one another, before I complied. I stood naked before her, my attraction to her very evident as it reached up as high as it could and almost out towards her. Her eyes traveled down my body and back up and I growled very softly.

Her golden orbs fastened on my face and she began undoing her corset lacings where my attempts left off, she let it drop and stepped out of it daintily. Her fingers gathered handfuls of the delicate chemise and it was tossed aside with her other clothing. Her golden skin beckoned my touch and I ravenously raked my eyes over her curved figure before reaching to press our bodies together. She wound her arms around me with a sigh and we held each other tight.

I swallowed to try to speak normally, "It would be a shame to waste the bath water," I said softly, still wanting to fix the disaster her hair was in.

"It would," was all she said as she led me to the bath.


	38. One Night

---

Christine

---

Erik decided to quickly wash the dust out of his hair under his shower before getting into our bath so I watched the cold water pour from the ceiling over him as he swept the hair back from his face with his eyes closed. I decided that his chest and arms were my favorite part of his body but he turned around to grab his soap and I was staring at his unscarred bum. Warmth flooded not only my face but my stomach and groin as I remembered gripping his tight backside while he thrust his body into mine. My skin tingled as I stared at my aroused knight. I thought about helping him slide that soap over his hard chest and down his flat stomach, sliding my own body against the slipperiness, taking his engorged manhood into my hand...

He looked up at me, probably because I was almost breathing heavily at my train of thoughts. He smiled.

"Staring is rude, Christine," he was trying to keep from laughing and I walked the two steps and pulled the chain. Water sluiced over him as he laughed and rinsed himself.

I led my lover to the bath, though I'm sure he wished to forgo it now and take me straight to bed. I stepped in and he followed, his eyes never leaving me until we settled against each other as we'd done before. It was a little uncomfortable with his arousal poking me in the back but after a few minutes he relaxed. I made sure to fully wet my hair, inwardly laughing at his displeasure with the straightened locks. He mentioned that it still looked much straighter then it ever had before while wet and I assured him it would dry and curl right back up. He grumbled incoherently and I had to fight with my laughter again.

I sighed and settled my body into his like he was my favorite chair. I could barely believe that I so easily suggested this but once the words unthinkingly left my mouth I wouldn't take them back. I enjoyed our watery moments of intimacy very much and I wondered if Erik would still be craving me once we finished the bath. We were both quiet tonight as our hands slid over each other, holding, cherishing and loving with small gentle touches. Not at all like the fiery passion from a moment ago. I wondered if it would always be like that between us, one moment intense and the next calm and beautiful.

"Did you speak to the managers today?" he broke through my reverie.

"Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. I signed a six month contract," my hands slid over his knees and thighs, tickling my palms with the coarse hairs.

"Hmm..." he tilted my head to one side, gliding wet fingers up before placing a few kisses upon my neck. "Would you say six months is a long time?"

"Long? I don't know," my eyes were blissfully closed as he nuzzled my ear and my hands memorized the feel of his thighs. "I suppose it would be a long time to wait for something but not a very long time to live," I reasoned.

"Hmm..." his hands slipped from around my waist and I gasped as they cupped my breasts. "Is it a long time to wait for a wedding?"

"A wedding?" my brain turned to mush as he toyed with my nipples.

"Yes, a wedding, my love. When a man asks a woman to marry him they generally do get married at some point..."

"Oh..." I squirmed against him as one hand slid down my stomach. "Erik..." His long elegant fingers found their mark and I arched back with a moan as his hand moved over me.

"I love you, my golden songbird, my goddess, my angel," he whispered as he parted my flesh to seek my pleasure. "I spread my hands upon you, for my soul thirsts for you like a parched land..." He flexed his fingers, rubbing me gently. "I commit myself to you, body, mind and soul until we pledge our love before the eyes of God..."

"Yes, Erik," my body undulated for him, even the mention of God couldn't dampen the feeling his touch arose in me. I was blooming for him again.

"Your voice belongs to me, your body belongs to me," my hands gripped his legs tightly as he gently explored my yearning flesh. "Even your thoughts are mine angel," he breathed in my ear.

My eyes closed as he teased my entrance and my hips moved to help him but he moved his hands to cup me solidly, his arms tensing around me to hold me close as his voice lowered. "No other man will ever touch you as I have touched you. No other man will ever know your body's secrets for they are _mine_ to hold, _mine_ to explore, _mine_ to savor..."

"Yes, Erik," I was panting for him. I wanted him to explore and savor me. I wanted him to penetrate my body with his. I wanted everything we'd done last night and more.

"Are we done with the bath?" he asked softly, his arms loosening and my head nodded from its weak perch on his shoulder. I wanted to take _him_ to bed and make love to _him _but knew my lack of experience would leave me at his mercy. "Good." He stood and lifted me from the bath and wrapped a towel around me, gently helping me dry myself on my wobbly legs as he stood dripping wet and probably cold. He took the second towel and started squeezing the water from my hair. It was going to take awhile to dry it and my mind conjured images of what we could pass the time doing.

"The fire is lit if you would like to sit by it for awhile," he was always thinking of me, always making my life easier and better. My eyes fastened on him as he used one of my wet towels to dry himself off and I wanted so badly to be the one to take care of him and make his life easier and better. I neatly hung my second towel up to dry and watched him move. His grace oozed from him even while doing something simple like drying his legs and he was such a formidable sight to behold. All the toned muscle and scarred skin made him look like a warrior and he was my warrior. He'd lived through horrific feats to be at my side and I wanted to wrap my body around his to revel in the victory of our love. I wanted to revel and cherish and love every inch of him forever.

---

Erik

---

I dried myself thinking that bathing was much more fun and far less of a chore then I previously thought. Did others find enjoyment in sharing such a moment? I suppose as long as the two of us enjoyed it, it did not really matter what others did or enjoyed.

I kept covertly glancing at Christine as she stared at me. Was it fear or longing in her gaze? Perhaps a little of both, but I mostly was paying attention to her hair. She turned when I finished drying and began to leave the washroom and I scrutinized the long wet mass down her back. It hadn't started curling yet and if it was changed at all from the pressing I would track down whoever had done it and...

"Erik?" she was at the door, looking back over her shoulder. Her smooth rounded bottom seemed to be framed by the ends of her damp hair and I could feel myself swelling. Her eyes flicked down and then she nervously gathered her wet hair, "Are you coming?"

A predatory smile curled my lips and I could almost see her heart rate accelerating in the curve of her neck. I followed her out with my eyes glued to her fine rear end and I wanted to spend all night in bed with her.

Not sleeping.

Patience, you sex fiend!

Is it even possible to be a fiend when you only have one night of experience?

I took a deep breath and turned back to grab my robe. We did have many things to discuss and I didn't want her to feel like I was not involving her in decisions and only interested in her body. I settled my robe around her and she seemed a little surprised but tied it on. It was a short robe and if I wore it without pants it would look rather ridiculous on me. On her it hung above her knees and covered what needed to be covered to keep my attention on conversation. I fetched my pants and pulled them on and it was as if the offender knew he would not be satisfied at this time and he went back to his usual state of apathy.

Christine was already kneeling on the rug, her legs folded, her back to the fire, tousling her hair with her fingers, her golden eyes watching me, always watching me.

"Do you require your comb or perhaps one of the hair tonics from your room?" I offered.

"The one in the green bottle," she responded and I was off to fetch my lady what she needed. I thought about grabbing us some wine but recalled Christine's first experience and thought better of that. I wanted her to be aware later when I pleasured her and myself. I did bring us some oranges.

I helped her comb out a few knots and run the tonic through her hair, the rose scent tickling my nose with perfection, and then I washed my hands and returned to her. We lounged on the floor where we had our first extended experience together and I smiled at my fiancée.

"What?" she smiled back with a curious twinkle as she kept up the displacement of her hair to dry it faster.

"Just remembering our first night..."

"What about it?" she asked playfully.

"Everything..." I said vaguely as I started peeling one of the oranges. "The way you looked at me, the warmth of your body next to mine, your lips on my temple, the way you said my name. So many heightened moments...it will be hard to ever forget it."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize I loved you."

"You?" I laughed gently, "What about me pet? I still did not realize it until Nadir spelled it out for me." My jovial attitude darkened at the thought of Nadir. I'd left him so upset today...

"What is it love?" Christine leaned towards me worriedly, attune to my mood.

"Oh, it's just...Nadir..." I rolled the orange in my hand not feeling like eating it anymore. "He...he loves me Christine. As if I were his son, to him I am his son...it's all very strange and I...feel like I didn't handle it well today. I left him so upset..." I scowled at the orange wanting to squeeze it into pulp. "He forged my name on his son's birth certificate."

"Because he does love you, Erik," she gently laid her hand on my leg. "He has known you longer than he knew his own son, he has watched you grow where his own son died as a child. He has you in his life, and only a memory of his boy. Why wouldn't he do all he can to help you?"

"You are most likely right about the clothing he gave me."

"They were his son's?" I nodded thinking of Nadir bringing me to his house that day, not because he felt pity but because he felt love.

"He said I even look like him..." my throat tightened and she slid off her heels to sit with her legs curled to one side and reached to run her fingers through my damp hair and then grabbed the orange from my hand.

"Well then, you have a father, who truly loves you, a fiancée, who truly loves you, real documents that pertain to your birth and nothing to worry about," she parted the orange and slid a segment into her mouth. I gazed at her lovingly from my prone position on the multicolored cushions.

"Is it easy to always be so positive?" she glanced at me with fluttering lashes and laughed lightly as she pulled another piece from the orange.

"It's easy when you yourself are happy," she leaned closer and offered the piece to my lips. I accepted it, and a quick kiss from her, and chewed the segment thinking it was the sweetest orange I'd ever tasted.

"Will you marry me, Christine?" I asked just to hear her say yes again. She smiled.

"Yes Erik darling, I will marry you. Whenever you want, where ever you want."

I folded my arms under my head and leaned on the pillows with a sigh, so content and happy that nothing could break this bubble of complacency that surrounded us. I knew at the start of tomorrow I would resume my worries of these dinners and my acceptance and Nadir and the houses but for now I was entirely relaxed and just talking with my future wife, enjoying the warmth of the fire as it helped to re curl her glorious hair.

"The curl is coming back," I noted, extremely glad to see it.

"I told you so," she joked.

"So, back to our wedding..." I rolled to my side and lazily trailed my fingers along her bare leg. "I thought we could get married at the end of your contract, in the summer, if that suits you. Then we can decide if we will stay here or leave Paris for awhile."

"Where did you want to go?" she looked curious as a mouse, nibbling a piece of the orange with the fire light sparkling through her hair.

"I thought you might want to go home and settle things there." I didn't like the idea of leaving Nadir, my business, and the opera to all fend for themselves but if she needed to go...

"I don't know if I want to." Her voice was so tiny that I curled my hand around one ankle and gripped it tightly.

"I am with you always, Christine. Anything that you must bear, I bear with you."

"I know Erik. I...there's really nothing there. There is no point in traveling so far..." her soft words dried up and her eyes closed.

"Do not make your decision now, I want you to think about it, and you can let me know if it is something you would like to do once we get married." She nodded and took a few deep breaths and then resumed her careful destruction of the orange.

"As much as I like the idea of a summer wedding, six months seems a long time to wait for our wedding," she mentioned as she offered another piece. I chewed it slowly.

"It is longer than I'd hoped for but we do have a lot of things to do in that time. I am determined that you will become the greatest diva to ever grace the stage and I want to build you a house, and those don't go up over night and are there plans that need to be made for the wedding day and don't you have to get a spectacular dress? I can make you an appointment at my tailor if you like?"

"Oh, and I want Meg to stand with me, she will need a new dress as well."

"I will make an appointment for both of you then, and concerning Meg..." I wanted to tell Christine of my agreement with Meg because I felt like keeping it from her would be wrong. "I met with her this morning before rehearsal." Christine looked surprised for a moment but then understanding bloomed on her face.

"She was all flustered when she picked me up this morning. I knew something was wrong with her. What did you say to her?"

"She asked to be my friend and I accepted. Is that alright with you?" I suddenly worried that telling Christine was the wrong thing to do but she laughed.

"Of course Erik, don't be silly, I'm so glad that you will let her get to know you. I do love her so, she is like the sister I never had. Oh, this is wonderful!" her arms were tossed around me and her weight pushed me down into the cushions. "I love you," she murmured as her lips pressed to mine. My hands slid under the robe to cup her round bottom as my body rose to attention.

"Christine..." I groaned lightly, as my hips pushed up against hers.

"Erik..." she crooned softly as she ran kisses down one cheek to my neck.

"I'm...I'm not done...talking..." what was wrong with me? I wanted to talk when my beautiful goddess was pressing her soft lips to my neck and collarbone?

"Oh," she backed off of me with a grin, "Sorry," she offered, smiling cheekily. I lay there for a second, feeling the loss of her warm body, and then rolled over and buried my face in the pillows.

Idiot. When a woman lays on you and presses kisses on your body maybe you should just forget everything you had to talk about and bring it up another time instead of wasting a perfectly good opportunity to peel your robe off her body and take her in front of the fire as you wanted to do that first night...

"Erik?" her dainty hand rested on my shoulder blade, "Are you alright?"

"No I am not. I just realized I am the stupidest man in the world," I said into the pillow and she laughed as I rolled back over. Her golden eyes were happy and full of passion and love for me. "Now what I have to ask you seems very insignificant..." I said drily.

"We can always pick up later where we just left off," she tossed her drying curls around avoiding my eye as she blushed.

"If you so desire..." I couldn't help the dark desire in my voice and tried to regain my train of thought. "So, as unimportant as this is compared to what we could be doing right now...I wanted to ask you about your relationship with your father."

Her eyes changed, the happiness and embarrasment in them died and those sorrowful windows to her deepest pain reflected back at me. "What did you want to know?"

"How did you show him your love?"

"Is this about Nadir?" I nodded solemnly. I had to make sure I gave him everything he deserved.

"I'm not sure it will help you but I would hug and kiss him every day and cook his meals and keep house and read and sing to him when he wanted me to and listen to his stories even when I'd heard them many times before."

My brow furrowed, "That is not very helpful. I can't go bustling into his kitchen or dusting his office and I certainly won't be kissing him any time soon..." she shoved me playfully.

"Well, you already play piano for him whenever you can and you go there every Sunday for dinner, both of those show you care for him, Erik."

"But I want him to know how grateful I am for all he's done for me. He gave me not only his name but his son's education, his clothing, his birthday...he adopted me as his own. I want to make certain he knows I care..."

"I think he knows, but you could always just tell him? That is the surest way to let someone know you care."

"Seems too easy..."

"Sometimes the easiest things are the hardest to do. Look at us for instance. The Lord gives us each other and it take us months to figure it out," her hand trailed down my arm, "Even though we both felt the pull to one another."

"Here I just thought I was weak but all along the Lord intended you to be mine," I cupped her jaw and glided my thumb over the apple of her cheek as our eyes locked.

"I never imagined you thought very much of God," she was slightly hesitant, like she was curious about my religious views but did not want to delve to deep.

"I may not like Him very much but I know all about Him. It was made clear to me at a very young age that the glory and love of God spreads over all people, except for deformed little monsters."

She gasped, "Erik, don't..."

"Hush," I commanded, not wanting to ruin my mood and hers with talk of religion, which would lead to my mother and her religious views and what I remembered of her explanation for my existence. "Let us talk of something else..." Christine was frowning at me, not in anger but sort of in disappointment. She crossed her arms but instead of the pose conveying annoyance and anger my body suddenly flared to life. The loose robe gaped somewhat in the front and I had a wonderful view of her high breasts, framed by my robe and pushed in by her crossed arms. My eyes wandered up her slender neck. I was done talking. I was pretty sure I had more to speak to her about but I couldn't remember it as I looked up into my angel's sad eyes. "Let us go to bed."

"Oh, are you sure you are done now?" she quirked her lips in annoyance.

"No, but I am done for now," I helped her stand and deviously pulled the loose robe from her body.

"Erik!" she gasped as I scooped her into my arms.

"Were you planning to sleep in it?" I joked as I took her to my bed and laid her upon it.

"Well...no...but..." I stood over her prone figure and couldn't help gazing down at her beautiful form. She threw her arm over her face and I knew I was embarassing her but I couldn't stop myself. I stared at the golden lightly freckled skin that covered her slender limbs and slim figure. Her hips flared generously enough, the small patch of tight curls that rested between her legs and her small round breasts that would fill my palm if I took it in my hand. Her nipples were a pretty pink and hardened into little peaks, probably from the cold air, and a pink flush was deepening on her chest and neck and probably her face too. She peeked under her arm at me and I quickly bent and pulled off my pants and then crawled over her.

I wanted to take her quickly and roughly, satisfy the burning desire that had roared within me and then hold her warm body and luscious hair next to me as she drifted to sleep. I doubted I would sleep after my recouperative rest last night. Maybe she would stay up with me and I could have her as many times as she would allow. I took her in my arms and our bodies tangled effortlessly, legs, arms, hands and tongues explored. I wanted to drive my already swollen shaft within her but I drew on my control to keep my touch somewhat light and gentle. Just as earlier, she could push me to the edge by barely trying and as her fingers raked through my hair and her tongue darted against mine I growled and spread her legs open to settle my hips between them.

I hovered at the warm threshold to her body and questioned myself. I still doubted that she could want me, at all or at this moment, but her hips pushed up and it felt like an invitation. Lust was clouding my judgement, she could probably be pushing me away and saying no and I would see it as invitation. I broke away from her sweet mouth and she continued to press kisses across my sunken cheek, her tongue flicking over my ear as one of my hands trailed over her hip to grip it tightly.

"Christine..." her name was questioning and breathy with wanting and her arms tightened around me.

"Yes, Erik," she whispered like she knew what I was asking. I hoped she did because I couldn't wait any longer for her. I started to push my way inside her and at the tight wet sensation of her womanly flesh I realized that I hadn't prepared her properly at all for this level of assault but it felt so good that I couldn't stop my body from wanting the rest of it. I tried to be gentle but the word assault was floating in my head as I penetrated her. She was squirming beneath me, her neck arching and her hands scrambling like she would crawl away if she could and I grabbed her hips to hold her in place as I finally buried myself to the hilt.

"Oh God Yes Erik," she breathed into my neck and my arousal doubled, tripled, hardened to an unbelievable pressure as our bodies trembled and she hooked her legs around mine. Her inner core held me as tightly as we held each other and now that I knew she was enjoying this I let my doubts go and made love to my angel how ever I wanted to.

"I love you," I whispered as I moved within her, scattering kisses on her neck and ear, filling my hands with her curly hair as I filled her body with mine. Her nails dug into my back, her head thrown back and I increased my vigor. The intensity that I felt inside me for her was almost too much. It made concentration difficult, all I could feel was the silky grasp of her body around my shaft and the fire that burned through me, whispering to take her. All I wanted was more and more and faster and harder...

I hitched her legs up higher around my hips and she cried out as I thrust into her. She bit me on the neck and my body jerked out of rhythym but the motion made her moan enticingly and I was a quick learner. This time when I thrust inside her I added a small hip jerk and she loudly groaned my name.

I was not going to last much longer if she groaned my name so erotically but I wanted to make sure she was fully pleasured, but I also didn't have the control or the inclination to stop now and see to it so I kept driving myself into her, rubbing our intimate places together and pulling arousing noises from my songbird's throat.

"Angel..." I whispered in her ear as I felt my body losing control. Her nails were suddenly raking my back as her hips jerked and her body danced beneath me. The pain she inflicted on me somehow intensified my pleasure and her core was also gripping me so tightly that it was my turn to cry out for her as my body finally released itself deep inside her.

I sagged into her, panting heavily, my back burning, my body sated. For now. Coherent thoughts eluded me and I floated in the ecstasy of our love making. Her legs were still tight around me and I realized she had hooked her ankles together and the heel of one foot rested on my backside. I liked how this felt, to be joined so closely to my angel. I felt lifted to heavenly heights when our bodies were so joined. My body cooled and my breathing returned to normal while I gently ran one hand down her side over her rump and up her thigh where it wound over my hip. She mewled softly as my fingers brushed her sensitive flesh and the word assault drifted through my head. I pulled back enough to look in her face worriedly.

She looked to be peacefully sleeping, her lashes resting on her flushed cheeks, her lips curled in a tiny smile, satisfaction evident on her face. Her arms and legs tightened as I kept distancing myself.

"Where are you going?" she asked huskily not bothering to open her eyes. Many comments floated through my mind but only one was the honest truth.

"No where," I answered softly.

"Good," she sighed and pulled me back down to rest my head in the crook of her neck as her legs and arms tightened around me. "I love you Erik..."

---

Nadir

---

The silence in the house was oppressive. I lay in my bed, sleepless, thinking of my dead wife and dead child. How long did I wish I could just die with them? How many nights did I contemplate doing it myself? But Allah had other plans for me and has used me as he would.

I rolled restlessly, trying not to bring the ever ready images of Rooheeky on our wedding night or swollen with child to my mind. It was useless of course. My body stirred for her even though we were separated by years, miles and death.

I rose from bed to change my lustful thoughts. I had very few mementos of my previous life. After spending those eight years in prison with nothing but my thoughts, I found material things held no power over me. The only things I'd brought with me on my journey from Tehran was the portrait of Rooheeky, which I rarely looked at, and Reza's birth certificate. As much as changing the slip of paper had hurt, a great calm had also filled me. I had a son again. A real live son who cared for me, even if he didn't fully realize he did. Some strange twist of fate had given Erik Rooheeky's wild stormy eyes and I morbidly sometimes thought of him as Reza risen from the dead with his memory and part of his face taken as payment to come back to me...

I looked out over my gardens, trying to see as far as I could in the moonlight to the stream where Erik asked to build a house. I would not be able to see it but I would know it was right there, just out of sight. Perhaps some days the wind would carry the smoke from their chimney into my line of vision. I liked, no, I loved the thought of Erik and Christine living right there, just out of my sight, happy and in love and maybe they would have children of their own and I would get to see a little Erik running around or a little Christine playing with dolls before I myself passed into the afterlife. I was not sad at the thought of dying. Everyone met with their end at some point. Some candles burned until they were nothing but a little puddle of wax and some were snuffed out far too early.

Suddenly I was thinking of my own parents and how my choices had pained them. They had convinced me that I would be disowned if I married Rooheeky but when they died all of the family fortune had come to me and my small family. There was even a box full of hundreds of letters my mother had written to me saying come back home, we want to know our grandchild, please forgive us but my father never sent them. He was a stubborn man, who had sired an equally stubborn son, but he could have destroyed the letters. The fact that he didn't made me realize that I was still loved and still accepted no matter what words had been said in anger.

How had Erik managed to survive with no one's acceptance and love for so long? Erik...Erek...Erek Karan.

I knew no one would dispute my claim. Even Berou and Molly thought he was my true son because I never revealed to them that he was not. I never told anyone anything and now it was time to let go of Reza and truly embrace Erik. It was not very hard for me to do and I was slightly ashamed by that. But in the beginning I imagined Erik was him and soon enough loved Erik all on his own merit and all of that emotion jumbled in my head and heart together and what came out the other side was a solid reassurance that the man with half a face was my son.

No one would dispute it because even I had no dispute for it.

---

Raoul

---

"Please Julie?" I was ridiculously on my knees but woman enjoyed such gestures. After half an hour of pleading my case and apologizing for my stupid behaviour I was so close to having her back. "It is you that I love, I was so drunk and so stupid. If you ever forgive me it will be because you are an angel of mercy and goodness..." I prattled on about her virtues until tears glimmered in her eyes and I knew I had her.

"But...but you said you loved her...and the paper..." still with that? I almost grumbled but explained yet again.

"I did love her, at one point, but I now know you and you are so much more and the paper will print anything to make people buy them. I am not engaged to her."

"The ring on her finger is huge, Raoul, who else could have given it to her?" her arms crossed defiantly making her breasts rise up higher.

"I don't know but it is not mine!" though I fully intended to find out who it belonged to. Was it that ugly Karan fellow's ring? How could Christine look at him? How could she so blatantly choose him over me? "Please Julie, for all we know Christine wrote up that garbage about herself for the paper. She probably thinks it will help her career."

"She's a great singer, Raoul, she doesn't need any help with her career." Julie was looking angry again and I realized she was jealous of Christine. Mightily jealous.

"Well, maybe I should talk with her to figure out where this rumor of our engagement started."

"SEE!" she pointed at me dramatically, "You _want _to meet with her, you still love her!"

"For God's sakes woman! How am I to dismiss her lies if I do not understand them?" I was getting angry. Julie could really be stupid but she was beautiful and very talented in other ways. She covered her face.

"You don't love me anymore!" she sobbed and I stood to take her in my arms.

"That is impossible," I vowed as I began kissing her cheek. "How could any man resist loving you? You, the most beautiful dancer on that stage, my eyes never stray from your figure as you dance. You are a siren to me, I am helplessly drawn to your beauty. I could no more resist you than stop breathing. I love you so much Julie..."

"Truly?" she sniffed as her hands hesitantly inched around me.

"Truly." I leaned in for a kiss and was rewarded with a passionate press of her body and mouth. I groaned lustfully and drew away. "Will you help me, please my love, we must find out what this strumpet is planning?" I had to make sure she would help, it was the whole point in this exchange.

"Yes, Raoul, I'll get her alone," her warm mouth moved over my neck and her hands trailed to the tops of my pants and I smiled against the silky feel of her hair.

I am so close to you, fairy...


	39. Misunderstandings

---

Erik

---

It was dark. I was cold and curled into a ball.

The door opened and a handful of my hair was grabbed to haul me out of the closet.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CLOCKS?" I swallowed hard and straightened the mask, pulling it off my lips to talk without further chaffing my mouth.

"They still run," I don't know why I thought she would take pity on me. She never did.

"They run backwards!" she shrieked and I cowered. "Devil child..." she muttered as she turned away to grab something.

She pressed the hilt of a kitchen knife into my right hand and forced my fingers to squeeze it, lift it and slash it across my left palm. Blood welled darkly and I cried out in pain.

"Stop! I'll fix them! Let me try! I'm sorry!" she shook me violently.

"Cry out for the Lord, Devil child, or I will bleed every bit of your evil blood out of you."

When she tried for my other hand my whimpers turned into growls and I threw her hands off of me.

"You have to catch me first..." I turned to run and something hit me in the back of the head. I fell to the ground but landed on something soft.

I lifted myself on my hands and hissed at the opened palm. I cradled the sliced hand and looked around. Christine was sitting by an open fire, draped in a swath of white fabric playing a golden harp. The notes rang oddly and I shook my head not recognizing where we were.

"Christine..." I called softly and she looked up with a smile.

"You were dreaming," she tossed her curls over her shoulder. "Was it a pleasant dream?"

"Come to bed," I reached out my bleeding hand towards her and she rose to come to me. Our hands touched and she recoiled from the blood.

"You spill your evil blood..."

My head reeled and I jerked awake. I was lying down. It was dark and I reached around me trying to grasp my bearings. My palm was no longer sliced open and I could feel her curly hair and my bed. I sighed and relaxed knowing it had just been a strange dream. I could smell her rose scented hair and rolled to gather Christine in my arms. Her limp body came easily into my embrace. I breathed deeply of her vixen-like perfume but a strong coppery scent filled my nose and I tightened my hold on her cold naked body.

"Christine?"

She did not answer.

She did not move.

She was dead.

---

Christine

---

I woke to his frantic hands on my body and his trembling lips on my neck. He was murmuring something but I was still half asleep...

"Alive...you're alive..." his travelling kisses finally reached my mouth and I woke fully as his tongue delved between my lips. I could feel his whole body trembling. I kissed him hard and then tried to pull away but his touch was demanding my obedience. His fingers kneaded my flesh hard as his hands shook and tears burned in my eyes because I wanted to ask him what was wrong and make it right but there was no chance to. His tongue danced in my mouth and mine rose to follow. I could never deny him our passion and my arms encircled his neck as I arched my body into his. He was fully aroused and quivering from head to toe. He spread my legs and married our bodies fiercely as I cried out. I was still sore from earlier but my legs wrapped around him and my wanton hips rose to meet him as he made frantic love to me. My mouth was free to talk as he rained kisses all over my face but all that left it was heated moans as I clung desperately to him.

It didn't take long for him to find his release and as he melted into me I held him tightly, my own body just beginning to burn. He was still shaking and my breath panted in his ear from our quick exertions.

"I'm sorry, my love, I...please forgive me..." he whispered into my neck and I increased my hold on him.

"Erik, what is it?"

"I should never take you so roughly...forgive me..." I gathered his hair in one hand to put my lips on his ear but he reared back from me with panic in his eyes.

"What is it?" my voice wavered. He searched my face as if worried I wasn't myself and then collapsed on me.

"Oh Christine..." he practically sobbed and his hands slid slowly down my body, cherishing and memorizing with every tiny movement.

"What is it?" I asked yet again, gently petting his hair.

"A dream...just a dream..." he breathed and uncoupled us, rolling onto his side to gaze at me. The desperate love in his eyes, the desperate love making, his trembling and the memory of another night when he woke from a dream...I put two and two together. The only question I had was did he cause my death in the dream, but I would not ask it. I didn't really want to know. He probably wouldn't want to talk about it anyway.

"It was just a dream," I assured him sweeping my hands through his hair and pulling our bodies flush. "I'm right here..." I murmured at his mouth and he kissed me gently.

"I'm sorry...I just...I couldn't..." he started haltingly and I cut him off.

"Hush," he'd done it to me last night so I figured I owed him one. "Just hold me," I ordered and he enveloped me in his arms, holding me tightly to his body. I loved the way it felt to have my body flush with his and we lay quietly in the safety of our embrace for a few minutes. My hands could feel fresh marks on his back and I realized I'd scratched him with my nails again. My face warmed but he hadn't complained about it. I let my hands trail down to his bottom and he growled in my neck and slid one hand down over my bum and thigh to pull it roughly up over his hip.

I laughed lightly and moved closer, "Show some restraint," I joked but he froze. His face hardened into that blank serious mockery of his true face.

"Forgive m..." he started and I clapped my hand over his mouth.

"Stop! I was joking Erik. Do you really think, when I myself can barely resist the urge to jump in your arms every time I see you, would counsel you to restrain yourself?" I looked deep into his eyes, willing him to believe me. I should know to be more careful with my words. Again my brain was not working though because his hands were on me. I rubbed my thumb over his lips, "I never want you to restrain yourself." My voice was soft because I hoped that my unthinking joke did not have a lasting effect on our passionate love.

"But..."

"No buts," I ordered tapping his nose and then smiled, wanting to lighten his mood. "Unless you were going to say buttocks?" I slid my hand back over his tight backside and his lips twitched.

"You are addicted to the curve of my rear end."

"Yes, I am," I smiled even brighter as he rolled me to lay on him. My hair spilled around us and he solidly cupped my backside to hold us together.

"I am equally enthralled by yours," he squeezed me and I leaned my head in the crook of his neck enjoying our closeness. We both sighed and then I giggled and Erik pinched my bottom. "Quiet time," he ordered severely and I settled on him after a few cursory wiggles. His heart was still beating rather vigorously but it eventually softened and I tried to see if our hearts were beating together without being too obvious about it.

Far too soon he said it was time to get up and I wondered how he even knew what time it was. We rose and I fetched his robe from in front of the fire to tie it around my bare body and detoured to pick up my discarded clothing from his bathroom.

"Would you like something for breakfast?" I offered as I left his room.

"Nothing that requires knives..." he said bleakly as he stared into his wardrobe and I did not want to ask as I walked to my bedroom to get dressed. I had no trouble imagining why he would suddenly not want to see a knife and I wondered exactly what kind of vivid nightmare his mind had conjured for him.

I dressed and braided my hair quickly but he was still finished before me and already in the kitchen making coffee. I fetched the bread and some strawberry preserves and a spoon. I would have liked to make porridge but we didn't have time before we had to leave. He was all business as he asked if I was properly warming up at rehearsal and I assured him I was, after apologizing for speaking so soon this morning. I knew the rules and yet I kept breaking them. His eyes stayed down for a moment before lifting to mine and it was as if his soul was reaching out to me through those stormy grey eyes. They spoke thousands of words to me as he gazed at me sadly.

"I love you," I whispered over coffee and stale bread. His hand rose to touch the back of mine and he smiled lightly before checking his watch and declaring it was time to go.

The way up to my room seemed shorter every time and Erik somehow jammed the mechanism that opened the mirror so it would stay open until he was ready to leave me. I removed the cloak and hung it in the closet and Erik piped up.

"Has Antoinette asked to speak to you?"

"Mme Giry? No."

"Well, she will."

"Why? What about?" I don't know why I asked but he always seemed to know everything, and how did he know she wanted to talk to me?

"She has some information about me."

"What do you mean?" I was watching him carefully. He was very subdued and I hoped he wasn't still upset from his dream or from my stupid words. He seemed distant from me and I worried about that distance.

"I will let her tell you as I have no recollection of the events she witnessed."

"You can't remember them at all?" my heart squeezed a little at the reminder of his illness. Oh, but you weren't reminded of it when he was shaking from head to toe this morning, Christine? No, of course not, because he was busy making love to you and you can't keep one thought in your head when_ that_ is happening.

Suddenly he had me swept in his arms and his head bowed down to mine. "Just remember that whatever she says...that is not the man I want to be." His voice was urgent, like he needed me to understand him. "This is the man I want to be...the man that has pledged his heart and soul to you. The man that holds you in his arms." For the second time today I stopped his words with a hand on his mouth. I wasn't sure what he was talking about but one thing was for certain.

"I love you," I replaced my hand with my lips and he leaned me against the wall pressing his body over mine to shelter and protect and control and command all at the same time. We were getting a little carried away when knocking shattered the silence.

"Oh," I tried to fix my hair, "It's Meg!"

"I will go," he pushed his mask in place and kissed my cheek one last time before disappearing behind the mirror.

---

Erik

---

No sooner had the mirror replaced itself than there was rapid knocking upon the glass. I turned back slowly and Christine was pressed frantically to the glass. I heard knocking at her door and she yelled out, "I'm not finished dressing Meg. Just a moment!"

She slapped her palm repeatedly against the glass and I pressed the lever.

"Yes?" I cocked my brow, amused by the call back.

"I almost forgot," she whispered. "Everyone thinks that...well not everyone. I don't know what everyone thinks but some of the orchestra members were talking in French and maybe I didn't understand them but they started talking when I was standing right there and maybe they wanted me to hear them but..." I pressed my lips to hers to silence the rambling whispers and also because I couldn't resist. Once silenced I released her.

"Your point, ma fleur..."

"People think I'm engaged to Raoul."

Anger seared me, "What?"

"Christine?" Meg called from the hall with more insistent knocking. Christine looked between the door and me and I dismissed her.

"Go answer the door before she breaks it down," she turned to comply but I grabbed her hand. "I need this back," I slid the ring from her finger and she tried to stop me.

"What? Why? No Erik!" her eyes were in flashes sad, surprised, hurt, determined and begging and I cupped her chin.

"I mean I need to borrow it. You will get it back later today." She pouted adorably and I kissed her pout softly. "Please ma chardonnerette. Trust me."

"Fine," she still pouted but she released the grasp she had on my ring stealing fingers.

"I will see you later, my love." She crossed her arms, clearly still displeased that I just removed her engagement ring. "I'm sorry, pet. Can I make it up to you in some creative way?" I purred seductively and she flushed prettily and Meg no longer knocked but pounded on the door.

"Christine? How long does it take to cover yourself? Open the door!"

I blew her a kiss and let the mirror close. She stayed staring into it for another few seconds before turning to calm an irate Meg Giry.

I looked down at the sparkling ring and then grasped it in my fist tightly as I quickly walked away. Did not want to lose it before I put it back on her finger this afternoon.

I made it to the first fork in the tunnel before I slowed my step and stopped. I had meant to get some work done today on the sketches for the commisioned house. The sooner I got the preliminary sketches done the sooner Bernard could present it and then we could get to work, hopefully before any snow fell.

I stood, though, at that fork for some time before turning around to go and keep an eye on Christine. I was still haunted by the feel of that dream. It had seemed so real when I woke in bed next to her but thank God I woke a second time to find her alive...

I took a deep breath as I worked my way to the stage and Box 5. I was being very childish about this. It was just a dream, I scolded myself but it was to no avail. The dream had rocked me to the core.

I reached Box 5 and parted the curtain just enough. Christine was sitting in the front row watching the stage with a smile on her face. I spared a glance at the goings on but they were unimportant. My eyes came back to Christine and my heart ached. How did Nadir ever live one day without his wife? I didn't think I was physically capable of continuing on without her and that made my anger stir.

Who was she to cause such dependence in me? Who was she to twist me into this weak wreck of a man who tossed aside all other responsibility to waste time staring at his lover? Who was she to make me love her so damn much that everything else became increasingly insignificant? Who was she to have the power to hurt me so deeply and make me feel so vulnerable and not even lift a finger to wound me?

Well, the scratches on my back did not count, nor did the love bite on my neck. Those wounds I would take again and again. Physical pain I understood, physical pain kept you grounded and focused. People had been inflicting pain upon me all my life, it was only natural for me to become immune to it but this morning when I thought that she had died...

My heart seized again at just the memory and my nostrils flared in defiance of the tears that wanted to spill down my face. She is alive, you imbecile. She is right there. You held her living breathing beating body on yours for half an hour, you'd think that would assure you that she was very much alive.

Christine looked down at her hands and heaved a huge sigh as if she missed her ring that much. A smile began to spread my lips and the mask shifted. I pushed it back into place in annoyance. I was getting so used to not wearing it around her...

That she allowed me to go without wearing it spoke volumes of her love for me. I knew I was an ugly wretch, I've looked in a mirror, and yet she kissed me and held me and allowed me to make love to her. My body tingled in remembrance.

She was my angel. That was why I fell so hard. That was why I could not imagine life without her. That was why I was forever transformed into whatever she wanted me to be. I flopped down into the chair and closed my eyes.

The thought of losing my sweet angel made an uncontrollable burst of emotion swirl within me. It physically hurt in the center of my being and yet no one was touching me. No one had laid a hand upon me but I ached and burned and seized up to the point that breathing was difficult. Was I doing this to myself? Was my dependence on her ruining my control over my emotions and over myself? If I didn't get a handle on my emotions would I begin to lose control more frequently? Like this morning when I found her alive and couldn't stop myself from taking her. I knew there was no love in that love making. It was all need, all lust, an all consuming fire that burned me apart from the inside out and if I didn't take her I would have burned to ashes by the hell of life without her.

I fisted my hands in my hair, fixing to pull it out. You have work to do, Erik.

I stood to look at her again.

Just a few more minutes...

---

Christine

---

Morning rehearsal was for all of the chorus and dancers. I knew Carlotta would not stay away forever and after sitting for a few hours I asked if I could sing with the chorus to warm up and to familiarize myself with the parts that I would probably end up playing.

By lunch I was quite hungry but Meg wheeled me away from the dining room.

"I'm hungry Meg," I complained playfully.

"Sorry but Maman says she must talk to you." I recalled Erik's warning.

"What about?"

"I don't know but she said it's very important."

"Is that why we're going to her room instead of talking over lunch?"

"I don't know Christine. She's been really touchy the last couple days..."

We reached Mme Giry's private quarters and Meg ushered us in. We all sat down and I braced myself for what she would tell me.

"This is not easy for me to talk about, Christine. I...I was very frightened that day and it happened many years ago. I will try not to exaggerate the details."

She told me of the young boy with the mask who the gypsies kept in a cage. He was so thin and so white and the large mask covered his whole face. He was known as the singing corpse and he was forced to sing for the crowds of eager people. His voice was divine but his face was a nightmare.

"I always left before he removed the mask, I had no desire to see the face people talked about." She paused with her eyes cast down and I thought she couldn't go on but she did. "I must have gone a dozen times to hear him sing. He commanded your attention with his voice, he could sweep you into a fairytale with just his song. He was so small and yet he had such strength in him...the gypsies beat him one time because he would not sing. Not once did he cry out," she covered her face. "I left before they made him sing or beat him to death but I came back again, like I always did." She was ashamed that she'd gone so often to hear him sing but I sympathized with her. His voice was divine. I was as addicted as she had ever been to the purr of his perfect timbre.

I was glad she was telling me this because Erik hadn't shed any light on his early childhood. His story had begun with Nadir rescuing him and he'd barely mentioned the gypsies. Now I knew they'd been cruel to him, just as everyone in his life had been. I wanted to hold him right this moment and looked down at my naked hands with a pang in my chest. Why did he take my ring?

"There is one time in particular I need you both to know about," her voice was suddenly stronger and more sure of itself. I gave her my attention. "I'm sure what happened was deserved, those gypsies probably never fed him and they beat him horribly, but the last time I went, twenty five years ago, the singing corpse was only a boy but...he killed a grown man three times his size in less than a minute."

I felt like all the air was sucked out of me and I looked over at Meg worriedly. She was shocked.

"Maman! How could you say that?"

"Please ma chere, it is true," she begged her daughter but Meg rose to her feet enraged.

"I can't believe you would say this! They love each other, Maman, and you and your spite will try to drive them apart. Come on Christine, you don't have to listen to her lies."

I didn't mind leaving because I didn't want to explain how I was okay knowing the man I loved had committed murder. I wasn't sure how I could explain it properly.

"Leave her Meghan! She must know the man she is marrying is evil!"

"Erik is just misunderstood!" Meg stomped her foot and silence echoed through the room with all eyes on her.

"Erik is it?" Mme Giry's eyes sharpened on her daughter and Meg flushed a bright red.

"Let's go Christine," she dragged me from the room apologizing for her mother. "I can't believe her! Making things up like that..."

I took a deep breath, "I don't know, Meg, it might be true."

Her pretty mouth dropped open, "Christine! How could you think that? Erik is wonderful! So polite and proper and gentlemanly, he could never...kill someone..."

I wasn't looking at her and couldn't look at her as we continued walking.

"Christine?" she tried to get me to raise my eyes and suddenly I was being dragged down the hall again. "We have twenty minutes before rehearsal starts again and you are going to talk to me."

We locked ourselves in my room since it was slightly closer to the stage but I told her next to nothing. I didn't feel Erik's past was something I should go telling people but Meg was being quite verbally aggressive and it was beginning to annoy me.

"Tell me now or I swear I'll go straight to Erik and ask him myself."

"And when were you going to tell me you were friends with him?" I crossed my arms.

Her brow furrowed, "When he told me I could."

"Why would you think he wouldn't want me to know?"

She threw her hands in the air, "I don't know, jealousy maybe?"

I raised one brow at her silently and she flicked her hair off her face.

"Just tell me what you know about him or I'll tell him you don't like to talk about him. That you hate talking about him"

I glared at her, "He'll know you are lying."

"Come on Christine! You have to tell me," she whined.

"No." She threw herself on my bed dramatically.

"I can't believe my best friend won't tell me anything about her future husband!" she complained.

"Ask him yourself. As I said, I know almost nothing about his life as a child. He has told me some of his more recent past and it is not pleasant. If you want to know it, ask him. I will not break his confidence."

"Ugh, you're so proper," she rolled off the bed and checked the time. "You win for now, but the next time I see him I'm going to question him to death and it will be all your fault," she smirked at me. "We have to go."

We raced most unladylike to rehearsal and I had to take a moment to straighten my hair before stepping out into the seated area to sit by Piangi. We would be practicing the opening sequence with the whole chorus and all the dancers behind us. There were no costumes yet but with the props and all the people it was a lot to get arranged. The principal singers would be called to the stage once everyone was put in their spots and knew their places.

I hummed lightly, prepping my throat for the warm up that Mr. Reyer would give me. Piangi surprised me by approaching quietly.

"Mlle Daae," he nodded slightly, "I was wondering if you would permit me to join you today when you warm up."

My mouth opened slightly and I nodded quickly, "Of course."

He settled himself into a seat closer to me. "Wonderful, you are quite right about warming up the throat but Carlotta is so demanding that it often gets over looked during rehearsals."

"Oh," I wasn't sure what to say and did not want to say anything bad about Carlotta. If you had nothing nice to say then remaining silent was preferable. Piangi's assistant came over to him and began asking him a series of questions and jotting little notes down in a book and then he scurried away again.

"May I ask that young man's name?" I was curious about his role.

"Who? Oh that's Thomas," I detected a note of affection in his voice, "He says he wants to be a singer one day," this got a huge eye roll from Piangi. "Boy is tone deaf but he is helpful."

I smiled and turned my attention back to the stage. Dancers were everywhere and Meg stuck out her tongue at me while her mother waved her cane at Marjorie. Rehearsal continued on without a hitch and we were all up on stage being directed into our spots when the door at the back of the theatre slammed open and Erik strode angrily down the main aisle, looking particularly magnificent.

"Christine Daae!" I'm sure everyone turned at the shouting purr of my name but my eyes were already riveted to my lover. He looked fantastic in his impeccable dark dress clothing, his long legs swallowing the distance between us with sure even strides. I worried briefly that I would embarrass myself in front of all these people by running to press my body to his but he spoke again. "When you accept a man's engagement ring you are expected to wear it!"

My mouth dropped open, my face flaming red and then I hurried off the stage and down the stairs to intercept him. What was he talking about? He took my ring!

"Monsieur," Mr. Reyer attempted to forestall him, "We are rehearsing."

"As patron I have every right to be present," Erik brushed him off.

"Present, yes. Shout and disturb things, Non!"

I reached Erik by this point and he waved my ring in my face.

"Why was this on the table in your room?" his eyebrow arched upward and it looked as if he was fighting laughter. What was he playing at? I crossed my arms. Well, I could play just as easily...

"What were you doing in my room?"

He smiled just a bit, as if I'd said exactly what he wanted me to say and he stepped beside me and began gently leading me away from the stage to the back of the theater.

"I was leaving you flowers," he said in a stage whisper that I'm sure everyone heard.

"What are you doing?" I giggled unable to resist anymore.

"Shh!" he didn't stop until we were at the very back of the theater near the last row of seats and the door. From here our whispers would be only that to everyone on stage.

"What are you doing?" I asked again and he took me in his arms fiercely.

"Ensuring everyone in this damned theater knows that's my ring on your finger!" I laughed into his chest and he squeezed me. "Stop that! They will think you are crying."

I tried to stop and relax, "Can I add to your performance?" I let one hand stray towards his backside and he started shaking with laughter. "Stop laughing!" I said quickly, "They may think you are the one crying."

He pulled back to gaze into my eyes and as I looked up into his face I realized the reason I'd thought he looked so magnificent, besides the stormy fury of his anger and the well dressed capable body, was a flesh colored mask that clung almost invisibly to his missing cheek. You could barely tell it was there and he probably looked completely normal to everyone on stage. I blushed that I just admitted to myself that I didn't think of him as normal and he traced my cheek adoringly.

"I love you, Christine," he slid the ring back on my finger and I answered him with more vigor then he was expecting.

"Erik Karan, I love you so much!" and I threw my arms around his neck, enthusiastically seeking his lips. The new mask flexed easily instead of pressing and jabbing into my face and I made an appreciative noise while he growled low in his throat before pulling away.

"Let's not get carried away, love," he turned us slightly so the stage was getting a view of our foreheads together. "Can you manage from here?"

"I think so..." I glanced towards everyone, who were all sort of gape mouthed. "I'll tell them it was a misunderstanding."

"Good idea, and if anyone asks, we met at the mask and I've been training you since then."

"Is that all?" I stared into his stormy soulful eyes.

"You can tell them all that I fell hopelessly in love with you," he smiled for me and I ran my newly ringed hand down his cheek.

"And I with you..." I whispered as he took my hand and bowed over it.

"I will see you later, my heart," he gently kissed my palm and then whisked himself away.

I turned back to the captivated audience.

"Please forgive the interruption, it was a small misunderstanding." I smiled encouragingly at everyone and took my place back on the stage. Mr. Reyer gathered everyone's attention and soon rehearsal was moving smoothly again but there was one difference. I was glowing. I had my ring back and now everyone here knew it wasn't Raoul's. It was a fantastic, handsome, glorious, fairytale man's ring that sat on my fourth digit, serenely sparkling in the bright stage lights. I felt like I myself was sparkling in the stage lights and couldn't keep the smile from my face.

As rehearsal wound down, some people began leaving and I waited for Meg but Mr. Reyer approached me.

"Mlle Daae, a word if you please," he led me to a somewhat secluded spot and turned to me gravely. "I may be sticking my nose where it does not belong but your man, your fiancee," he nodded to the ring, "He said he is a patron but I have never seen him before."

"Oh," my mind whirled, "His father and he retain Box 5. Do you know of Nadir Karan?"

"Yes of course but this man..."

"He is Nadir's son, his name is Erik. He mostly keeps to himself, I'm not surprised you've never met him." I hoped I was doing a good job of this.

"Well, I do not wish to meddle in your affairs but I question whether this man will allow you to continue singing."

My mouth opened in shock, "But of course he would."

"Any man, patron or otherwise, who would so disturb a rehearsal can not think very highly of the arts."

"Oh," I almost wanted to laugh but I had to keep my head on straight to convince Mr. Reyer in as few words as possible. "You could not be further from the truth. You see, Erik is devoted to my singing career, he is my singing instructor."

"Your instructor?" Mr. Reyer was studying me now and I bowed my head bashfully.

"I know I should have kept things professional between us but I couldn't help myself. There is something about a man of music that stirs my very soul." I glanced up at him to see a blush forming on his cheeks. I realized he himself was a man of music and my words could be misconstrued besides the fact that they were quite revealing and a little bit scandalous. I bit my lip and he bowed his head to me.

"Forgive me Mlle for sticking my nose into your affairs. I hope I can meet your fiancee in a more formal setting some day," and he strode away leaving me glancing around for Meg. We had another dinner to attend tonight and I wondered if she would want to borrow one of my dresses.


	40. Jealousy

---

Christine

---

I could not find Meg anywhere around the stage and started making my way to my room by myself. I heard someone running up behind me and glanced over my shoulder as Julie bounced up beside me.

"Bonjour Christine, how are you today?" she smiled shyly and I had to smile back at her.

"Fine thank you. How are you?"

"Very good," she swung her slippers as we walked. "Was that your fiancé?"

I thought it was a bit of a stupid question but answered her anyway, "Yes it was."

"He seems..." she searched for a word, "Aggressive."

"Oh, he was a bit angry that I took off the ring and forgot it on the table." I made light of it with a laugh, "I can't imagine any man would be happy about that."

She laughed with me, "Probably not." An awkward lull descended and I wondered why she was suddenly being nice to me. "Meg asked me to walk with you to your room." Well, that was my answer but where was Meg? And why would she ask Julie to walk with me? "Are you not feeling well?" she looked over with concern.

"I feel fine. Where is Meg?"

"Her mom grabbed her. Looked like big trouble to me."

My heart clenched. Poor Meg. Her mother must be furious with her. I sighed wishing I could have just told Meg so she would know her mother wasn't lying. Erik and I would have to talk to Meg and maybe her and her mother would be able to get past this but once you feel that trust is broken it's hard to repair.

"Do you know what it was about?" Julie queried and I realized that everyone here lived on the gossip.

"No." Simple answer. I thought I knew, but I wasn't sure so I wasn't really lying to her.

"So, how long have you been engaged?"

"Just three days now," I smiled thinking of Erik and Julie smiled brightly.

"Only three days?" she squealed.

"Yes," my brow furrowed curiously at her reaction and she laughed.

"How wonderful! It must be glorious to have a man kneel before you, profess his love and slide a ring on your finger," her voice wistful and dreamy. My lips pressed. I knew exactly the feeling.

"It is wonderful." We reached my door and I pulled out my key. "Thank you for walking with me. Perhaps Meg thought I looked faint?"

"Perhaps," Julie smiled slowly.

"I'm glad it was you she asked, I'm glad we had a chance to talk." I was being sincere, Julie and Meg were friends and I was determined to get past whatever hard feelings she had about the episode with Raoul. I was sure that seeing me in Erik's arms did much to allow her to forgive me. Whether or not she could forgive Raoul was her choice. Her smile grew wider and I noticed she had sharp looking eye teeth.

"Me too, Christine. I can't wait to meet your fiancé. His voice is divine," and with that she flounced away.

As soon as I got into my room I went for the medical text I'd borrowed from Erik. There had not been time for me to continue reading the studies that had been conducted about preventing pregnancy and this book also had a whole section about relaxation techniques that I wanted to read about. It was difficult to sing if you were tense at all and I could always test the techniques on Erik. He was tense most of the time, only lately had he begun to relax around me but then this morning's dream had set him back.

Of course, then he bursts in on rehearsal like something from the pages of a fairytale romance...

I grinned as the ring twinkled while I flipped pages. It was never going to leave my hand again.

I read for almost an hour and realized I would have to leave soon for the dinner. I changed my dress, wondering where in the world Meg had disappeared to, and sat to fix my hair into a more complex style. I twisted the sides up and loosely tied them with a ribbon. Then I gathered the rest of my hair and looped it through securing it in place with a longer ribbon. My hair looked soft and womanly as it framed my face and the up do suited the off the shoulder neckline of the dress. I was just starting to wonder if Erik and Meg were going to show up at all when soft knocking disturbed me. I opened the door to a tear-stained Meg.

"Oh no, Meg what is it?" I pulled her into my room and she wailed.

"I can't go with you!"

"What? Tonight?"

"Yes, Maman is mad and it's not fair!" she flopped face down into my pillow and I sat beside her to rub her back soothingly.

"What about the other nights?"

"She didn't say." Meg moaned loudly.

"Then maybe it's just tonight you can't come...maybe she will forgive you in time for the others," I spoke optimistically for her. I knew how excited she'd been at the prospect of meeting men who would talk to her instead of ogle her. Well, maybe a tad of both but Meg was a beautiful girl and hard not to notice.

"I don't know what to do Christine! Maman says she is telling the absolute truth but Erik was so nice to me...I wish he was here so I could ask him right now!"

Like magic the mirror slid away and Erik stepped into the room. Meg didn't see his entrance with her face buried in the pillow but I did, and with his dinner suit and cloak and new mask he looked so good I wanted to rip all the clothing from his body as he walked silently to my door and opened it slightly to close it.

Meg looked up and then hastily began wiping at her face. "I didn't hear him knock," she squeaked at me hiding her face.

Erik took out a handkerchief and knelt by the bed, offering it to Meg and putting one hand gently around my ankle. Heat shot up my leg right to the place that joined us together and I let out a shaky breath.

"Sorry, Meg, he doesn't knock." I sounded breathy and aroused and I flushed wondering if I could control myself around him anymore.

"Did you do it, Erik?" Meg asked out right as she took the offered handkerchief, "Did you kill a man?"

Silence filled my room, as if not one of us was breathing. Erik's hand was like a shackle around my ankle as he tensed. His eyes, though, were locked with Meg's.

"Meghan, what your mother said today must be true. I do not remember it," he said quickly, "But it sounds like something I might have done."

Meg buried her face in my back. "Can it be true?" she whispered softly.

"Yes," I whispered back as Erik's eyes burned into mine. Meg hugged me hard around the torso trying not to cry and Erik's hand gripped my ankle. If they wanted to they could rip me apart with the force of their love and I sat between them, one hand pressed to Meg's arms and one hand reaching for Erik's jaw.

"Tell her," I whispered to him and his eyes darkened considerably.

"I have killed many men," he confessed bluntly his eyes boiling. I frowned at him, he was not making this easier.

I reached behind me to pet her hair, "Any man that Erik has killed was threatening his life. Would you not try to do the same if your life was threatened?"

Meg sniffed blearily as she thought about it. "I guess," she mumbled. "Why would they want to kill you?"

"Because I am dangerous," Erik whispered and I shot him a look. What was wrong with him tonight?

"Because of his voice and his face, Meg. People are frightened easily by anything out of the ordinary. Would you say Erik is ordinary?" her sniffles had stopped.

"No, he's amazing and wonderful," she whispered very softly and I wondered suddenly if Meg loved Erik too.

"I am neither of those things, Meghan," Erik sounded tired and I touched him gently.

"Yes you are," I smiled and his mouth quirked as his eyes lightened, just a little bit, but then they looked back at Meg.

"Please Meghan, do not cry for me. Tears for me are such a waste. I have done terrible things in my life but I hope to never have to do them again. I am sorry that this has happened to us, to you. I am truly sorry that your friendship with me has caused such strife between you and your mother. I would never wish that upon you. Mothers...mothers are supposed to love you..."

"Why did you not just tell me?" she asked my back.

"Would you have ever been my friend knowing I had killed before?" he sounded surprised and Meg finally looked up at him.

"Or course I would! It's not as if you're planning to kill me or anyone here! And you didn't go hunting to kill people, you were forced to!" Erik's eyes flicked to mine as if to assess whether I'd told Meg something about Persia but I was just as shocked by her comment. "If they were threatening you...tell me, Erik," her hand reached out to him and I was left out of the moment. "Was your life in danger?"

"Every time..." he spoke softly and jealousy flared through me as Meg gently touched his face with trembling fingers. He was looking at her sadly and I wanted to yank him away from her. Meg was far prettier than me and her tears glimmered on her cheeks like tiny stars, her blond wavy hair rumpled and sweet looking. But I had my voice. He loved my voice. He wouldn't abandon me.

Fear skipped around my heart as they shared a special moment of silent acceptance.

"Now, I'm going to have to apologize to Maman," Meg sighed dramatically and Erik laughed lightly and I hated them both so intensely at that moment that tears filled my eyes. They were as compatible as Erik and I. She could make him laugh just as easily as me. I bit my lip hard and Erik glanced at me. His eyes asked me hundreds of questions but his mouth stayed closed.

"Christine wouldn't tell me," she tattled easily and Erik's gloved hand roamed gently up my calf, massaging slowly.

"Is that so..." he looked amused and relaxed now and I was a coiled bundle of nerves and emotions, as if he'd somehow spilled all his tension into me.

"She's so proper," Meg hugged me with one arm and Erik tickled the back of my knee and I wondered if I would throw myself on top of him to prove to Meg that one, he was mine and two, there was nothing proper about me.

"One of the many reasons I love her so..." he picked up my hand to kiss it softly.

"Gross." Meg declared and moved to stand up. "Why is Maman so against you?" she drew Erik's attention from me and I wanted to slap something over her mouth.

"You mean besides the fact that she witnessed me killing someone," he quirked his brow at her curiously and jealously flared again. That was my look! That was how he looked at me when I said something stupid!

Meg started counting on her hand, "They kept you in a cage, they didn't feed you, they forced you against your will and beat you and humiliated you, I think they all deserved to die. Too bad you only got one."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, Meghan." He was teasing her. Her! I stood to grab my cloak.

"I guess we should be going," I said tersely, swinging it on and Meg looked forelorn.

"I wish I was coming with you," she complained.

"Next time," Erik promised her and she hugged me tightly.

"Remember everything and come tell me later when you get back." I hugged her back because I did love her like my sister and couldn't explain the hatred I'd just felt towards her. I didn't think she had designs on my man but with someone as majestic and alluring as Erik I might have to be careful about him meeting too many women. I knew nothing of how to please a man and if he met someone with more womanly knowledge wouldn't he want to explore what that would be like?

We left Meg outside my room, after she'd told Erik his new mask was incredible, and made our way out through the front. Nadir's carriage was waiting for us and we got in silently. As soon as the carriage jolted to a start I threw my arms around Erik and kissed him desperately. My tongue was the first to break the barrier between us and he pulled me closer with a tiny growl. I was a mindless inexperienced little whore, trying to prove that we had something special in the confines of the carriage and Erik finally held me back from him.

"Now is not the time to get carried away, my sweet," I pulled away from him roughly and huffed as I crossed my arms.

Erik did not know what to do and he stared at me silently.

"Is everything alright with you?" he queried mildly after a few tense minutes.

"Fine," I pouted.

"Christine, I do not know what my acceptance here will be. What if they will not admit me?"

"What?" I looked at him incredulously. "Why wouldn't they?"

He gestured to his face and I fought to not roll my eyes. "You look completely normal to me. If other people are too narrow minded that's their problem." I looked away angrily.

"Are you cross with me?" he asked sadly and I knew I was acting foolish again and making him assume things and I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"No, Erik," I sighed heartily. Why did I always end up acting so silly and then having to confess my silliness. "I'm just jealous of Meg." He blinked at me in confusion.

"Jealous? Of what? You said being her friend was alright? Is it not now?" he tried to understand and I started blushing. How did I so easily mistrust his love?

"It's just that you two seemed...so...friendly," stupid Christine, really stupid.

"Are friends not to act friendly to one another?" I felt like he was laughing and covered my face. "My love," he did laugh and tried to take my hands from my face. "You can not be worried for my love?"

"You heard Meg, she said you are amazing! She at least likes you a whole lot and she made you laugh...it took me months to make you laugh!" He laughed for me now and my body shuddered with pleasure at the rolling sound. He took me in his arms and pulled me onto his lap and I went more than willingly.

"Ma chardonnerette," he purred into my neck laying gentle kisses there and on my jaw and over my mouth. "You are the one who chipped away the wall around my heart. You are the one who made it possible for me to be friendly towards others. You are the one who has changed me and my life." He held my chin so I was looking into his eyes, "I can only give my body, heart and soul to one woman and that woman is you. You are my soul mate," he whispered it delicately, the words feathering over my mouth, "Or have you forgotten that?" his eyes searched mine and I melted into him with relief. Our mouths met fiercely. I twined my hands behind his neck trying not to ruin his hair too much but God I wanted him badly. It was as if I needed him to prove to me that we were soul mates, that he would never stray from me, that our bodies were just as connected as our hearts.

I whimpered as his hand strayed to massage my breast under my cloak.

"I want you right now, my lovely Christine," he breathed at my mouth. "I will always want you but if we do not stop soon I may burst the ties of my pants." I couldn't help it, I laughed.

The reaffirmation of his love and desire for me, and only me, left me feeling giddy and I laughed joyously at his discomfort.

"I'm sorry," I continued to giggle as I dismounted from his lap. "I shouldn't laugh." I peered at the straining attraction in his pants as it tried to reach for me. "Can I help you in some way?"

He pressed his lips at me and his eyebrow arched, "No." He looked away and took a deep breath. "I don't know anything of this man we are going to have dinner with. No one has ever heard of him. I need you to be careful of what you say tonight."

"Of course," I assured him as he focused on business to keep his ardor under control. It's a good thing the Count's house was a little bit far away.

"I believe Carlotta will return tomorrow, she usually only stays away for a few days. Rehearsal will be much more difficult for you with her there. She is a difficult woman and usually controls everyone with her tempers. It may be trying but you will have to endure her anger when she returns." He continued on about the managers not wanting to lose her and so I may get shuffled around a bit and I listened to his constant stream of speech with a tiny smile on my face.

We were soul mates. How did I ever get so worked up over Meg?

---

Erik

---

I prattled on about nonsense and unimportant things to take my mind off the offenders desire to feel her warm silky core wrapped around him. I did find out what colors were her favorite and put that information away for later.

I could scarcely believe that she admitted jealousy. Who else would ever want this ugly male specimen? Meg? I tried not to laugh at her though she did not give me the same respect when my cock was bulging for her.

Meg had not even seen my face, though for a moment I thought her intention was to tear the mask from my face when she reached for me. I'm glad she didn't because this mask was actually fastened to my deformed skin with adhesive. I didn't want to ruin the line of the mask with ties to hold it in place and since it only covered my missing cheek and did not go up over my eyebrow I had nothing to hold it in place with. Glue was the answer. I wondered if it would hurt later to peel it off my sensitive skin but I brushed off that detail. If it helped be to be accepted just a little bit easier than it was worth it. Christine needed me to step up beside her as her instructor, her fiancé, her man, her protector. I needed to just do it and not worry.

We neared the house and I shifted nervously. I could only hope it would go well.

We disembarked the carriage without incident and I knocked loudly on the door before noticing there was a bell I could have rung. Oh good, first mistake.

The butler opened the door and ushered us in politely. He took our cloaks and showed us to a sitting room saying that dinner would be served shortly. An old woman stood as we entered and she reached out a withered hand towards us.

"Ah, you have arrived. The new toast of Paris, Christine Daae, you are just as much an angel tonight as you were on that stage on Saturday," the woman looked to be quite elderly but her eyes sparkled with life and mischief as she reached out for Christine. "I am Clotilda Inninbalm but just call me Tilly."

My angel, of course, smiled politely and took her hands. "Thank you for inviting me to your home."

"Oh, this isn't my home," she laughed but it sounded more like a wheeze in her old chest. "My grandson asked me to come stay with him and I could never refuse him."

"Is your grandson the Count?" I asked politely as she turned to squint at me when she answered.

"Yes, he is. And who are you?"

"Erik Karan, at your service." I bowed over her hand and she laughed again.

"Such pomp." She seemed delighted though as she gestured for us to sit.

"Cameron will be with us shortly," she offered and we all sat to wait for him and I breathed carefully thinking that so far this wasn't too bad.

"So, Mlle Daae, do you mind if I call you Christine? Such a beautiful name should be spoken, don't you agree?" the lady was a sharp talker. She asks and gives a reason for total agreement all in one breath and so far she did not seem to notice my fake cheek. Perhaps it was 'incredible' as Meg coined it.

Meg. I felt bad that her mother came down so harshly on her just for trying to be my friend. I wished there was some way I could talk to Antoinette and make her see that I was trying to change, I was trying to be good.

"Monsieur Karan, how do you know the young Diva?"

"She is my student," I tried to keep my answers simple because it didn't seem like Clotilda was a simple person to talk to.

"Student! Oh my, you must be very proud of her. She is so talented and so young and pretty too!" Christine was looking down demurely at the praise when a masculine voice came from our left.

"Grandmama, are you embarrassing our guests?" I stood quickly, trying to be on my best behavior and turned to the young man in an expensive looking chair with wheels. He was handsome, of course, with light brown hair cut much like mine and dark brown intelligent eyes. But he was an invalid. His legs looked painfully thin beneath the expensive trousers and I knew as my eyes took in all of him, he was taking in all of me. Our eyes met and his held curiosity over me but they traveled to Christine as she stood beside me. I could tell he thought she was beautiful and the jealousy Christine had recently spoke of flared to life. Well, he looked smart enough to notice the ring on her hand and to aid him, I took her left hand in my right and helped her step forward.

"May I present Mademoiselle Christine Daae?" I spoke softly knowing my voice always tended to purr when I said her name.

"A pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle, I did not see your performance but my Grandmama says you were wonderful. I am Count Inninbalm but I prefer to be called just Cameron."

"Thank you, Cameron, you are both too kind with your praise." She bowed her head bashfully.

"I believe dinner is ready if..." the butler appeared to interrupt.

"Dinner is served," Christine glanced at me. Technically she should walk with the Count to the dinning room but the chair he was seated in made her pause and perhaps she paused to see if I would be able to handle it.

"Mlle Daae, if you would do me the honor?" the Count turned his chair expertly with his hands on the wheels and held up his hand to Christine. She moved to take it and my whole body tensed. He put her hand on his shoulder and began wheeling himself after the butler.

"Everyone offers to push me but I prefer to propel myself forward at my own speed," he commented casually.

"I am glad I did not offer," Christine said softly as I woodenly took Clotilda's arm and led her to the dining room behind my future wife and a man who was appraising her far too much.

Clotilda patted my arm reassuringly. "Relax, he will notice it in a moment," she said softly for only my ears and I took a deep breath. Was I so easy to read that this old lady had me pegged so quickly? "Teacher and student," she whispered to me, "So scandalous..." she giggled lightly like a little girl and I wondered if she was all there in the head.

We sat at the small table and I was impressed that he did not try to impress with a grander setting. Plates were placed in front of us and I tried to eat but really everything I put in my mouth tasted like sand as I watched Christine blush and make small talk with a very intelligent, handsome, charming invalid and his slightly psychotic grandmother. I wanted to take him down a peg but he really was very polite to her and not at all aggressive or overtly suggestive or anything else that I could find fault with. He even turned to me after speaking to her for a time to ask me what I did for a living. I mentioned teaching a certain soprano but mostly spoke of my houses. He sounded interested when I talked about them and asked intelligent questions and I hated that I was liking him even as he sent small looks towards Christine. When dinner was finished he invited me to his smoking room and told the ladies we would join them in the sitting room shortly.

I followed a step behind him, my back tensed for action though I wasn't sure how a man in a chair would be any threat to me at all.

He lit his pipe effortlessly and offered me the box of tobacco which I declined.

"I do not smoke," I informed him and leaned against the wall crossing my arms. He puffed slowly and blew out smoke as he regarded me.

"You are a curious man, Mr. Karan."

"Thank you," I kept my eyes on him as he smiled. Curious was better than many other things I could be called.

"Why would you allow your fiancée to come here knowing I am in need of a wife?"

"Perhaps Christine has a friend who would be good for you. Why would you allow another man to find a wife for you?" I shot back.

"Tou ché," he puffed slowly. "As you can see, mobility is not my strong suit."

"As good looks are not mine," I inclined my head because I knew he'd noticed my clever mask. His grandmother, I think, was half blind.

He stayed silent for a moment, "Everyone in the world sees things a little differently. I, for one, do not see my illness as a hardship but as an opportunity."

"Opportunity?" I was slightly baffled.

"Yes, of course. I no longer have to attend senseless parties and participate in inane conversations with people I care nothing for because no one wants me there anymore. No one even remembers me anymore. It gives me more opportunity to work on my music."

"You play?" now he was piquing my interest. "What instrument?"

"I play them all," he smiled, encouraged by my questions. "Which do you prefer?"

"The piano," I replied though I'd recently found an entirely exquisite new instrument to play...

"Ahh, yes," he puffed thoughtfully. "I do enjoy that one, so many notes to mingle, so many chances to find the perfect blending of melodies in your mind..."

"Do you write music then?" I sat across from him interested in the conversation.

"Yes, but it's never been published. Would not be seemly for a Count to go about writing music like some commoner." He was bitter about his station in life. A rich man who had everything, well, everything but his legs was annoyed with his station. I was really beginning to learn that I was not the only bitter person in the world that had misgivings of the life handed to him.

"So, publish under a pseudo name." I was relaxing in his presence and dammit, I was enjoying his company.

"I have thought of that but...I want to hear it played, not just sell it for money and move on. That's not why I write, I write what I feel and what my mind conjures...to hear it played by an orchestra...that would be sublime." He puffed and released a large cloud of smoke. "So..." he began, "Are you interested to know how I lost my legs?"

"Not particularly," I flicked a speck off my trousers. "Are you interested in seeing what I look like beneath this?" I tapped the rubber mask.

"Not particularly," he repeated and then tapped out his pipe. "Should we go back to the ladies?"

"In a moment," I leaned forward, "I am interested in knowing why you need a wife?" He was not a man who misspoke himself and the words he used were 'in need of a wife'. Was it perhaps to gain his inheritance? Would any trollop do or did he want to find a real partner to share his life with?

"My grandmother grows old and I will soon be left with no family. I do need someone to take care of me unfortunately." He was looking down at his useless legs. "Servants are fine for most things but I prefer family to help me do certain things." He left it at that.

"Christine would have been perfect for you but she is already mine," I grinned a little saucily, glad I could rub it in just a little. He gave me a look.

"I thought you were going to growl and lunge at me when I offered to escort her."

"I tend to be a tad possessive," I shrugged casually.

"I was merely being polite."

"As was I, seeing as I restrained myself."

"Are you sure you didn't bring her here for some healthy competition?" his lips quirked amusedly.

All traces of laughter left my face, "Quite sure." I was deadly serious and he held up his hands in defense while he laughed out loud.

"I wouldn't dream of trying. One look at her face is enough to see she adores you but if she does have some friends..." he smiled at me hopefully, raising his eyebrows and I wondered if people like him were everywhere and I had just never been lucky enough to run into one before.

"You are a unique man, Count Inninbalm." I stood to follow him out as he admonished me.

"Call me Cameron," he wheeled himself effortlessly to the sitting room where we stayed for only a few minutes before he suggested moving to the music room. Christine smiled at me and I nodded and accepted and offered to escort her myself while Cameron tried not to laugh at me. He did not do a very good job though and I glared at him a little as he wheeled himself to the piano.

He played a few bars of music and he was pretty good. "Would you give us a private demonstration of your vocal abilities, Mlle Daae?" Christine's eyes lit up and she smiled at all of us.

"I need to warm up first but I would be delighted to."

The evening passed in the music room and I found myself feeling very welcome and almost normal as we played music and laughed and told stories and sang and enjoyed little cookies and orange flavored tea. Cameron and Clotilda were loving and open people who did not hold back what they thought or how they felt. Laughter often spilled from their lips and I found it very catching. Clotilda eventually dragged herself off to bed, exhausted, but the three of us still continued to carry on. It was mostly Cameron and I speaking but by no means was Christine left out of the conversation. She added her own insights and would laugh easily with Cameron when something funny was said. It was quite late in the evening when we finally thought we should be going.

I felt like I had been a part of something truly magical but perhaps this was just a normal day in the life of the Count. Maybe I was unaware of how normal people lived their lives but regardless I was humbled as Cameron wheeled us to the door. I didn't know how to put into words how I'd been made to feel so welcome and I was glad that Christine was the first to speak.

"It was a great pleasure to meet you, Cameron Inninbalm. I had a wonderful time this evening. Please say good bye to your grandmother for us. "

"I will, of course, Christine, she loved meeting you and I do hope you will come by for another visit," he kissed her hand and glanced up at me with an amused purse to his lips. I don't know when during the night I had stopped feeling jealous but at some point I got over my childish reaction to any direct contact between Christine and Cameron and I felt myself smiling as I reached to shake his hand.

"Thank you," was all I said because there was too much swirling in my head to go into it all. He had made me feel like a normal man and it was a true gift to be given. I hoped our acquaintance did not end here and that surprised me. Had I actually made another friend? I seemed to be acquiring more people the longer I loved Christine and the thought of being this man's friend was a good one. We had much in common and I sincerely hoped that I would see him again.

I also realized as we got into the carriage and Christine snuggled into my side that I owed Mr. De Changy an apology. If he was accepting of this man then why would he not be accepting of me. His words to me had been sincere and I'd been rude to him. Damn. More issues for me to clear up.


	41. Choices

**Author's note: WARNING! Sexual content to follow! Does that give away too much? Just wanted to make sure everyone was warned of the explicit adult scene that is coming up.**

**Enjoy!**

---

Christine

---

I wanted to go to Erik's home beyond the lake with him but he reminded me that I'd promised Meg that I would tell her what happened.

"I can tell her in the morning," I complained as he left me at my door with a small kiss on the cheek. It was not at all what I wanted. I wanted to strip the clothing off his back and mold our naked bodies into one.

I don't know why, but watching him talk and be sociable with other's had made my love for him triple and quadruple until I was fit to burst with the pressure of it and I wanted to wrap my naked body around his and love him all night long. He was so clever and quick witted, him and Count Inninbalm trading curiosities all night long and I had found myself gazing at my lover wondering if he would just continue getting better and better in my eyes. But now he'd left me here because I made a silly promise to Meg. Who cared about that?

I tossed aside my cloak, completely frustrated, and began attacking the ties of my dress. I was biting my lip trying to reach for the last loop when the mirror slid open and Erik strode in to take me in his arms.

"I can not resist..." he murmured as he kissed me deeply and began helping me out of my dress, pressing kisses to my skin as he revealed it inch by inch. I was so happy to have him back in my arms that as my dress dropped to the ground I pulled his jacket apart, eager to disrobe him, and felt the buttons pop off. He growled and I was suddenly raised off the floor, my legs spread around him as he pressed me into the wall.

"Christine..." he bit my neck and then swept his hot tongue over my collarbone as one hand wandered to my breast. My hands pulled on his ascot, unravelling the knot in record time and then I was pulling on his expensive clothing and I heard something tear. He laughed against me and said, "Buttons, pet, there are buttons."

I tried to get them undone but with his body pressed to mine and his tongue and teeth playing over my neck and ear, my hands couldn't master the small annoyances. He himself was pulling on my corset ties and soon gave up on it.

"I hate corsets," he mumbled against my neck as his hands tightly circled my waist and he laid me out on the bed. He stared down at me with his turbulent heated eyes and I reached to him.

"Love me..." I whispered and he slowly started on his buttons.

"I do love you, Christine, more and more every day that passes, every time you touch me, every word you speak and every moment I am in your presence, I love you more." He peeled the shirt, vest and jacket off as one and his pale hard torso was revealed. My body throbbed for him and I sat up to quickly struggle out of my corset and chemise. I was still trying, all of two seconds later, when I discovered Erik was naked and he brushed my hands off the ties with a quiet, "There's no time for that." His hands molded over my face and we fell on the tiny bed, our lips brushing, our legs entwined and our hearts racing. His fingers quickly traveled down my body and he touched me at the place that could join us together and I thought I would shatter.

My neck arched back and I could feel my breasts pressing against the confines of the corset. Erik's fingers penetrated me and I wanted to shout with joy.

"Yes, Erik," I half breathed, half moaned in his ear, pulling him closer to me and we rolled with each other right off the bed. I landed hard on him and I heard him hiss but his fingers delved inside me once more and I writhed on top of him. I found his mouth and thrust my tongue inside, desperate to taste him as my body quaked with the movement of his graceful fingers. I moaned and squirmed and tried to run my hands over him as much as I could but my head grew foggy and I soon was senseless as his hand pleasured me.

"My beautiful Christine..." he crooned as I began gasping for air. Pressure was tightening and making me dizzy and Erik suddenly slid my knees to each side of his hips, where he lifted me and slid his hardened manhood inside me. My head flew back at the invasion but I rejoiced in it as well. I was able to feel every inch of him within me and I moved above him, lost in the feel of our bodies joined so intimately, so closely, so euphorically. He stayed perfectly still, his hands frozen on my hips and I stopped and gathered my wits to look down at him.

His eyes brewed at me, his lips pressed tight together and I suddenly felt weakened. My instincts had retreated when I felt him not moving. I didn't know how to do this. Maybe I was doing it wrong? I spread my hands out on his hairless scarred chest and he reached up silently and undid the ribbons from my hair. Our eyes met as my hair cascaded around us, tickling my bare shoulders, and his held such heat in them that I felt burned by its intensity. I realized I held all the power as the one on top, straddling him like he was a horse to be ridden. Was that how to do this?

"Move for me, my heart..." he whispered to me and I quivered as he helped me move my hips up and down with his hands tight on my thighs. He pushed up against me as my body came down to meet his and we both moaned out loud. The sensation was so intense that I wanted to cry, I felt stretched to the limit, fllled with his body, the backs of my thighs were tingling as I slid up and down the length of him. I thought I liked the way it felt, I thought I enjoyed the freedom and power of this position but it was hard to determine if that was how I truly felt. I was riding his hard naked body, still modestly covered myself, on the floor of my bedroom. It was spontaneous and wondrous, a glorious joining...but I felt naughty...deliciously naughty...

He pulled me down to him so I was no longer kneeling over him and now sort of hunched over. He kissed me like he was coming undone and warmth spread down my spine as his hands cupped my backside. He left my mouth and his tongue danced over my ear, down my neck and over the tops of my breasts as he thrust into me. He managed to free one of my captive breasts and he suckled me as he made love to me and I cried out from the sensation, arching my breasts closer to his mouth so he could do it more. He changed the way he was moving his hips and my vision blurred while my body responded with tremors, tightening inexorably.

"Erik..." I groaned wantonly holding his head to my breast as I lost all senses and my body vibrated above his. His grip on me tightened and he stopped moving as I felt my body clenching his tightly. I collapsed on top of him breathing heavily and he pet my head gently, running his fingers through my hair, murmuring his love for me as I twitched and shook intermittently. We stayed like that for a few minutes until he gently pushed his hips up to me.

I could feel him inside me, still as hard as he'd started and I pulled away to look at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"Can you handle more?" he queried softly and raised his hips again, his eyes darkly inviting. The sensations between my legs were more subdued now but still felt divine to me and I ground my hips down on him.

"More..." I whispered at his mouth, "Yes, I want more..."

He started slowly, moving gently and fully in and out of me as we kissed and our hands played in each other's hair.

"Ma belle ange..." he whispered as I pulled back to look down at him beneath me. Our bodies moved fluidly and effortlessly, finding our rhythm, filling each other with love, until we both began to grow needy of completion. Our hands tightened as we rode each other and our movements grew harder, faster and more frantic until he was bouncing my body over his with the flick of his hips, pounding his hard flesh into my soft entrance and...I enjoyed it.

My mind exploded with colors for a second time and Erik joined me, holding me tightly in place as he spilled his seed inside me. I really collapsed on him this time and couldn't even speak for a good five minutes. I listened to him breathe and listened to the sound of my heart echoing in time to the beat of his in his chest.

Two becomes one...

"Are you asleep?" he brushed some hair back from my face and I tried to make coherent speech.

"No, are you?" he laughed gently and ran his hands down my back and over my thighs.

"Yes, I am fast asleep," I smiled in the crook of his neck at his laughing tone and then bit him. He jerked. "What did I do to deserve that?" he sounded pleased.

"You're making fun of me..." I drawled and he kissed my shoulder.

"Never," he said seriously and I nipped his neck again. "You were right," he sighed.

"About what?" I was seriously dozy and wanted to just wrap myself around him and go to sleep. I could probably sleep right here, on the floor, straddling him, still joined, in my corset.

"We should have just gone below," he sighed wistfully and slid his hands up and down my back again.

"Mmmm," I snuggled into him and relaxed. "Here was good too."

"You can't sleep like this, pet," he sounded like he was laughing but I didn't care anymore.

"Why not..." I drifted in bliss and fell asleep at some point after that.

---

Erik

---

My angel fell asleep, straddling me on the floor of her room. Granted it was well after midnight and granted she had just been thoroughly pleasured but still...

I held her close as my body softened, inhaling her floral scent and the musk of our love. It was ridiculous to keep lying on the floor naked but I loved to feel the weight of her upon me. Her warm breath on my neck and chest, her body curled over mine, her legs folded on either side of me, the curve of her back, the laces of her corset, the abundance of hair that splayed over my arms and around my head...

I sighed and trailed my fingers through her wild hair. She was a goddess. She was my goddess and I should take proper care of her. I lifted her as I sat up and her lashes fluttered and she murmured 'don't go' as I placed her on her bed. I wanted to stay but I also needed my sleep tonic and I didn't want to risk another dream like the one I'd had last night. I shuddered and sat down next to her to brush some curls back from her peaceful face. I started untying her corset so she didn't end up sleeping in it all night. When I finally got the ties undone I slid it down her body and off. The chemise was left slightly crooked and askew, one of her breasts peeking at me. I covered her and then pulled the blankets from their resting place in the corner and tucked them around her. I yearned to stay and stood staring at her for a long time before I finally gave up and snuggled my body next to hers in her tiny bed. Even in sleep she sighed happily and came into my arms and I closed my eyes at the pleasure that filled me.

Mine. She was mine. Every part of her, every word she spoke, every breath she took...

I held her close and thought about the day that I'd just had. Not only did I walk into a full rehearsal and not cause a riot but I was accepted into the home of a Count who treated me respectfully. It was mind boggling for me to think that maybe, just maybe, I would be treated like a normal man as long as Christine was at my side. Of course, if I really thought about it, I was treated normally by others without her presence. Nadir, for instance, had always treated me fairly. Perhaps he loved me more than the average person but then Bernard had always treated me respectfully as well. I never tried to get to know either of them and that was my issue.

Was I the one who shut myself off from human contact? Was it not necessary of me? Was I truly just a normal man with a facial deformity and not some terrible evil demon as my mother had convinced me, and later I had convinced myself of?

But so many deaths had happened at my hands, deaths I could not even remember, and I was so very good at it that I knew my mother was right, I knew I was evil. My only saving grace was that I now had a reason to be better. I have gone many years since killing someone and now I have an angel to watch over and shower with love so killing people will not be on my list of things to do.

I nuzzled my nose into the back of Christine's neck, her hair all around my face. I realized, when I couldn't feel her curls on my deformity that I still had the rubber mask on. I mentally shrugged and sought out the knobs of her spine with my lips. The skin was so soft, I couldn't resist kissing the small bumps where they pressed up against her delicate skin. She moved in her sleep, pushing her backside closer to my growing attraction and I rubbed myself against her with a soft groan.

I could make love to her forever. She was a glowing goddess when we made love, her response to my touch, her delicate moans of pleasure sent shock waves of delight through my own body. I felt like a god when she spoke my name in the throes of passion. The way she rode my body with her back arched, her breasts constricted within her corset begging to be freed, her luscious curls bouncing as I bounced her upon me...

I closed my eyes so I could see the image of her riding me in my mind. I was proud of her for not being frightened of the change in position and the thought that she might be open to other positions made me want to test each and every position I'd ever fantasized about. My hands slid up her ribs to cup her breasts and all these thoughts were making me want her again, right now.

I was a sex fiend.

"Erik...?" her sleepy husky voice came as she woke groggily stretching her body against mine.

"Sleep my love..." I kissed her neck, trying to let her go back to sleep, even though I was hard and aching for her. I kept kissing her skin, following the curve of her neck, my hands lightly massaging her breasts.

"I can't sleep..." she trailed off and her hands covered mine and she arched into my hands while pressing my palms down hard. Desire darkened my mind and I bit her right where I'd just been kissing her. She gasped and squirmed against the offender as our hands traveled slowly down her body, touching her together and then sliding the chemise up and over her head.

Her beautiful naked back was a creamy smooth expanse just begging to be kissed and nibbled and she looked over her shoulder at me with those tawny seductive eyes. I pulled her hips back so my hard cock was resting in the cleft of her bottom.

"Tell me you want me," I whispered in her ear, my hands gripping her bare hips.

She sighed happily and wiggled, "I want you, Erik."

Oh, and how I wanted her right that second. It coursed through my body like a ripple effect. I wanted to drive myself into her from behind and mindlessly fuck her. The thought was so crystal clear that I had a perfect vision of it in my mind. She was bent over on the bed as I stood behind her, her bare back on display with my bloody teeth marks riding down the length of it and her wild hair strewn everywhere, fisted in my hand as I pulled her head back and she cried out...

I hugged her tightly as I tried to breathe. Something was wrong.

It was as if my body wanted her so badly that I couldn't stop it and my hips thrust against her even though I was not inside her. She writhed against me, unaware of my inner turmoil until I began to pull away and my hands were shaking. She clutched them and her sweet voice came softly.

"Erik, your hands..." I suddenly knew what was happening and I let go of her quickly and scrambled off the bed. She sat up and her worried eyes met my wild ones as the tingling traveled down my neck and I fell into darkness.

Darkness where I couldn't breathe and screams were my only companion...

---

Christine

---

I jumped up when Erik fell and started convulsing. I didn't know what to do and could only watch him as his body tried to tear itself apart. Tears burned my throat and spilled down my face as I watched my Erik writhing on the floor in the throes of some terrible illness that stole his memories and his mind and his control over his body.

I knelt beside him when the thrashings stopped and his lashes fluttered weakly.

"Erik?" I tried not to sound scared but God I was scared. What if it killed him? What if he was taken from me? What if he woke and couldn't remember me? "Erik?" my voice sounded more sure but he just lay there panting. I gently pushed the hair back from his face wondering if I should remove his soft fleshy mask and his thick dark lashes finally opened. The soft grey of his eyes tried to focus on me but he had to blink a few times.

"Christine..." he croaked like it was painful and I touched his mouth softly.

"Don't speak, I'm here..." I held back the new wave of tears that wanted to spill. He sounded so vulnerable and weak but he wasn't either of those things and I would not cry about it. "Let me get the blanket," I left him for only a second to grab the blanket and I threw it over both of us and tucked myself against his side.

We lay silently for a minute and then he tried to speak again.

"What...was it...another seizure?"

I didn't want to say yes but, "Yes."

"Dammit..." he swore and his breath shuddered in and out of his chest. I held him tightly. "Did...did I hurt you?"

"No, my love." Inside I was crying out like a lost little girl.

"What...what caused it?"

"I don't know, we were..." I stopped, excessively embarrassed by what we were doing when he jumped from the bed with panic in his eyes. "We were..." I still couldn't make myself say it but he understood.

"Oh," his hand reached up weakly to hold my shoulder and he hugged me to him as hard as he could. "I'm sorry, pet."

"Shh, don't apologize," I stroked his chest lovingly feeling the strong beat of his heart. I wondered what happened inside his body when the whole of his was thrashing on the ground. Could he damage himself within and not even know it?

"Remind me of what happened today," he asked softly.

Fighting tears I told him how he warned me of Antoinette and took my ring after discovering the misunderstanding of it's origins, how he burst in on rehearsal and he laughed lightly.

"I remember that," he said softly with wonder and I squeezed him.

I reminded him about Meg and how her mother was behaving and that Meg now knew some of his past and he sighed. I told him about dinner with Count Inninbalm and he interrupted.

"He sits in a wheeled chair," I fought not to clap like a silly girl that he remembered something.

"That's right," I encouraged, "Do you remember anything else about him?"

"He plays music...and smokes...and thought you were extremely beautiful..." his hand slid slowly down my naked back.

"Well, I don't know about that but the rest is true," I shifted my body closer to his, wishing there was a way I could shelter him from this illness.

"Of course it is true," he said softly and I looked up at him. "You are so very beautiful Christine..." his eyes held such sadness and yet such love, such devotion. I reached up and cupped his face and brought our lips together. We kissed each other softly, tenderly exploring, and then Erik pulled back to lay his head down.

"I must...I need rest..." he breathed weakly and his eyes fluttered shut and didn't open for many hours.

I spent every one of those hours praying. I no longer cared if God was listening or not, if He thought me a wanton whore for laying with the man I loved before we were married; for wanting to give Erik something good in his life since God himself would not provide him with anything. I only cared for Erik. I only cared that God would heed my desperate plea to take care of my love. For him, I prayed into the early morning hours. For him, I lay sleepless on the floor. For him, I cried tears of frustration, guilt, love, pain, heartache and loneliness until I lay silent and empty, waiting for him to wake so he could fill me up with life again.

---

Erik

---

My eyelids cracked open and I could feel the silky soft rose-scented body next to mine. I reveled in the feel of waking next to her and then rolled her on top of me to hold her close.

"Erik?" she was fully awake and her hands bracketed my face so she could search it worriedly. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," I didn't elaborate, knowing she must be worried. She didn't need to know that my backside ached dully from being on the floor and one of my elbows was throbbing. I gathered her hair in one hand and brought her lips to mine. I kissed her ravenously and she mewled and then slid her legs on either side on my hips and kissed me back. I remembered falling off the bed with her and wondered if that's when I hurt my rear end and elbow. I remembered making love to her while she straddled me in this very same position.

My cock swelled quickly for her and I could feel her warm wet womanhood right next to it, waiting for me....

I turned away from her mouth and held onto her tightly. It was crazy that the first place my mind went when I woke next to her was sex. The only thing I was thinking of was sex. All I wanted right now was to make love to her and show her every different way we could come together. Sex, sex, sex...

I helped her slide off of me and sat up, rubbing my hands over my face. I felt the rubber mask still glued on and sighed. Yesterday was coming back in tiny snippets but the words she'd spoken before I passed out last night helped a lot. I glanced over at Christine and she was watching me worriedly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she whispered and I touched her cheek softly.

"I'm fine, my love, a little sore and tired but that is all."

"You...you..." tears glimmered in her eyes and I took her into my arms.

"Shh pet, I'm alright, I'm here..." I reassured her holding her solidly and she clutched to me tightly, her sobs only lasting a few minutes.

"I was so worried, Erik..." she said softly once she'd quieted down.

"Do not worry, my love, I've apparently lived with these seizures for years, I just have to figure out how to best them," and I would. Or at least try to make sure she never had to witness them again. "What time is it?" time to move on from this, no sense dwelling on my illness.

"I don't know," we rose from the floor of her small dormitory room and part of me wanted to laugh bitterly. If I had just listened to her and gone down below none of this would have happened. I would have taken my sleep tonic and slept peacefully instead of worrying my precious angel by forcing her to care for me again after one of my fits.

I quickly dressed in yesterdays clothing and Christine got ready for rehearsal. Meg would be coming shortly to pick her up and I should probably be gone when that happened.

"I think I might make an adjustment to your mirror," I pondered out loud as she saw to her hair. It was ridiculous to have this entrance but no way to open it from this side. Another thing she'd been correct about. Maybe I should just stop thinking for myself and let her make all the decisions.

"Today or tonight?" she brought my thoughts back to the mirror.

"Some time today I suppose..." I studied the edge. If I made it difficult enough, no one would find it by accident and then I wouldn't have to skulk through the halls to get to my tunnels. I turned to her and she was gazing at me with sad longing. "Tonight, nothing is going to stop me from taking you down below," I promised. She smiled tentatively and I realized that it was the first smile I'd seen on her face this morning. That realization was an arrow through my heart. I was killing the happiness in her. I was killing the sunshine in her, the light. I was filling her with my darkness, with my evil...

"What?" she queried as she stood to put her arms around me.

"Nothing," I choked out past the lump in my throat, "Just staring vapidly at my beautiful woman."

She leaned her head on my chest, "I love you Erik."

"And I love you, Christine," I whispered holding her tight, "More and more every day."


	42. A Toad

---

Christine

---

Erik left and Meg came shortly to pick me up for rehearsal. She was angry with me and I was glad for the distraction because otherwise I would have worried myself sick about Erik.

"I waited for you until eleven!" she complained and I apologized again.

"We didn't get in until almost midnight, it was so late I didn't think you would still be up."

"I wasn't," she pouted. "So how was the Count? Was he gorgeous?"

I smiled thinking of Count Inninbalm, "He was very nice looking and very much a gentleman and he and Erik got along very well."

"Really?" Meg smiled. "I'm surprised Erik is suddenly open to meeting new people."

"Maybe I'm having a positive effect on him," I preened slightly and Meg shoved me.

"Don't get all high and mighty," she laughed, "Any man would change himself for the love of a woman."

"Then love has had a positive effect on him," I stuck out my tongue at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe Count Inninbalm is just special," she watched me for reaction.

"He is," I agreed with her.

We reached the stage and Meg made me promise to give full details at lunch. The first hour of rehearsal was like the days before but then La Carlotta returned.

Everyone scattered out of her way as she tromped onto the stage. Piangi stood quickly from his seat close to me and Mr. Reyer seemed frozen in place.

"Is dis a rehearsal or are we sitting around like frrrogs?" she put her hands on her ample hips and waited for someone to respond. Piangi always seemed to know how to difuse her anger and he reached out a hand to her.

"Carlotta, darling Diva, we have all missed you." She glared at him and then pointed at me.

"What is dat little toad doing derrre?" she knew what happened at rehearsals and me sitting out here could only mean one thing. My heart was beating frantically but I stood bravely.

"I am your understudy, Madame," I said as politely as I could.

"You?" she laughed cruely, "The little sparrow is MY understudy?"

"La Carlotta," Mr. Reyer attempted to get a hold on things, "How lovely to have you back. If you will take your seat I will call you to the stage when your presence is required."

"And when will she practice?" she pointed again, "I know she needs it!" She fanned herself dramatically, "I've never worked with an _understudy_ before." She said the word like it tasted bad and I fought to not roll my eyes at her. She was so immature and territorial. Piangi spoke up.

"Come and sit with me, turtledove, I will fill you in on what has happened while you were away." He made it sound like nothing was her fault but the fault of others and she flounced to the stairs and down. I was a little scared to take my seat again and Mr. Reyer saved me the discomfort.

"Mlle Daae, since La Carlotta has returned, will you take your place with the chorus?"

I accepted heartily and heard Carlotta cackle again.

"Yes, little sparrow, go hide your sparse feathers among the others," tears burned in my eyes but I refused to show such weakness in front of her and everyone else. Why was she so hateful? What did I ever do to her? Well, except take her place and be crowned the toast of Paris...

Meg sidled up to me and whispered, "Just ignore La Grande Vache. I heard the managers like you better anyway..."

A few of the other chorus members gave me encouragement as well and even Julie patted me on the back and said Carlotta treated everyone like garbage and to not take it personally.

I was glad when lunch came and I could forget about the tension that now was held suspended over rehearsal with Carlotta back. I told Meg all about Cameron and his musical expertise. I didn't think I should spread the news that he was an invalid so I kept that tiny bit to myself but she listened raptly to all the details of the evening. She laughed at my description of his elderly grandmother and sighed wistfully saying she wished she could have met him. I told her that she maybe could because Erik and I were planning to see him again at some point. She dreamed out loud about marrying a rich man and living in a grand house and having stables with horses and Julie came to sit with us. She got in on the conversation of men and we all laughed and relaxed until we had to go back to rehearsal.

"Don't worry Christine," Meg put one arm around me as we walked. "She never comes every day so you won't have to put up with her all the time."

We returned to the theater and the managers were in the audience. They called out to me when they spied me and I approached cautiously.

"Mlle Daae, do forgive us for the ugliness that occurred this morning. We had no idea that Carlotta was returning today."

I assured them that I suffered no ill will towards her, I was in her place after all. I smiled encouragingly and they both smiled with me.

"You are a breath of fresh air, Mademoiselle. And congratulations on your engagement. We were unaware you knew the Karan family." They both bowed over my hand with curiosity glimmering in their eyes.

"I met them at the mask and the rest, as they say, is history," I saw Carlotta returning and she eyed me up from behind the managers. "I should take my place on stage," I excused myself quickly and Carlotta pounced on the managers. Everyone could hear her going on about how she didn't need an understudy and the thought of it was humiliating enough and how could they do this to her and with someone such as myself, a little orphaned sparrow. I gritted my teeth together as my cheeks burned red and told myself that silence is a virtue. The managers ushered her out of the theater to take the talk somewhere else and it left us with some breathing room. It was as if the whole crew sighed in relief when she left.

Why did they put up with her if everyone felt so tense around her? I could not understand it and as we began again I told myself that I would never get that way. No matter how famous I became, no matter how long the audience clapped for me or praised me I would always be gracious to those around me and thankful for my gift and the blessing to use it.

---

Erik

---

It was difficult to concentrate on the rough sketches in front of me but I somehow managed to tune out my brain and yet work with it at the same time. I needed to get these sketches done. No more procrastinating.

After a few hours, with rulers and graphite I finished the preliminary sketches and rolled them up. It was a good thing I had roughly planned out the house before my life exploded. Otherwise I don't think I could have finished them so easily. I wrote to Bernard telling him that I had the sketches done. Nadir would make an appointment with the clients but Bernard would need to be present to go over the sketches and make sure all the details were taken care of. I would have to meet with him to transfer the roll of sketches and make sure he fully understood them.

I also had to start on the house for Christine. I pulled out some fresh paper and started drawing. Time slipped away as I fashioned a grand bedroom with a large window suspended in the ceiling so she could look at the stars. A dressing room for her off to one side and a bathing room big enough for two off to the other side. I fashioned a conservatory with a pipe organ, since I've always wanted one and a sitting area with large window seats that look out onto the stream. A smile was curling my lips as I drew for Christine. I felt like I was building a fairytale house for her. Nothing before it would ever come close and everything I built after it would pale in comparison.

The clock struck three and I was surprised to hear it. I somehow had missed one and two. I stood with the letter for Bernard and grabbed my tools and a thin strip of wire. I made my way to Christine's room and looked inside. True to her word she never closed the curtain and it was as if I was always welcome, into her room, into her arms, into her heart, into her body.

I pressed the lever I'd put in and watched it move the mirror. Once it replaced itself I wrapped the thin wire around it and pulled down on the wire to see the mirror slide open again. Now I just had to figure out how to be able to pull this from the other side. I jammed the mechanism again and worked on the problem at hand, blocking all the other thoughts in my head. I had to chisel a piece of the floor out carefully so that it could be replaced somewhat seamlessly and finally felt it was time to test what I'd configured so far and I released the mirror. It slid into place and I was suddenly staring myself right in the eye.

I blinked a few times to make sure it was me. I looked...normal. Pale skin, dark hair, grey eyes, arched brows, straight nose. With my deformity mostly covered like this I looked completely normal. You could still see the beginnings of something strange on my lip but other than that, if you squinted to blur the edge of the mask, I looked like any man on the street. The white mask had always lent a rather frightening robber-esque air to my countenance but this mask...

I lifted one hand and poked it. It flexed and held and I looked in my eyes again. I could hear Nadir describing his wife's eyes. Is that what others saw when they looked at me? My stormy wild eyes? I turned my face the other way and thought I was pale but my skin was unblemished. Maybe I was...not ugly?

My brow furrowed at my hopeful reflection and I reached up and ripped off the mask with a sneer. Some of my skin tore off with it as the glue tried to hold the mask in place. The pain centered my thoughts. Of course I was ugly, an evil demon's spawn, a monster, a corpse even. How childish of me to think a mask could change me. At least Christine could endure the way I looked. My angel could stand to look at my accursed ugliness.

'Everyone sees things a little differently,' Count Cameron's words came back to me and my frown softened. Yes, some people would say I'm ugly but then perhaps some would say I'm normal and only slightly deformed and some, or one in particular, had said I was not hideous, not one iota.

Listen to me, going on about my looks like a woman...

I tried the new release mechanism and it worked. The mirror slid away to reveal the dark tunnel and then slid back in place. I carefully placed the small piece of broken floor over my new hidden lever and brushed off my hands.

I checked the time and saw that rehearsal would be winding down shortly. I laid on her bed, feeling the effects of the night and long morning and waited for her to return.

Now that I had a few minutes I started pondering my illness. I don't remember having this problem when I was a child. I lived with Nadir for many years and he would at least remember if I had convulsions then. Perhaps what he told me of the Shah beating me was the inception of my illness. Except that I remember my mother drugging me as a child and why, if I was prone to convulsions, did I live for the last few years so peacefully? It's only been recently, with Christine in my life, that they have surfaced. Is it something about us that causes my body to lose such control? Is it my inability to control my emotions? That would be the biggest difference in my life currently, the new and overwhelming way I felt for Christine.

I covered my face with her pillow so I could smell her as emotion swelled inside me for my angel.

These were good emotions though. How could good feelings be causing uncontrollable convulsions?

I breathed deeply and checked the time again. I suddenly wanted to hold her very badly.

---

Christine

---

Once again Meg disappeared after rehearsal and Julie bounced up to me.

"Did she ask you to walk with me?" I asked, a little exasperated by Meg's odd behavior.

"No, not today," she pulled my hand, "She said she has a surprise for you. Come with me." She began pulling me down the hall.

"What kind of surprise?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know but she said to bring you to the roof, strange no?" I followed Julie up the flights of stairs to the roof wondering if I should have grabbed my jacket or cloak but Julie herself was only in her dancing tights so hopefully we wouldn't be outside for long. We reached the heavy door and Julie tried to open it.

"Is it locked?" she stepped back to look it over and I smiled, familiar with this door.

"No, it's hard to open if it gets slammed shut, here let me try." I shoved my shoulder against the door and it opened for me. "See," I stepped through but Julie didn't follow. "Are you coming?" I asked and she smiled, flashing her teeth.

"No, this surprise is just for you, Christine," and she swung the door shut as hard as she could.

I exhaled in annoyance. I might not be able to get it open now without help, it was a good thing Meg was up here and I turned a circle looking for her.

"Hello?" I called out, stepping around the corner.

"Hello Christine," said Raoul De Changy.

---

Raoul

---

When she stepped around the corner I nearly wept from the beauty of seeing her so close to me again.

"Hello Christine," I fought to keep my voice neutral and polite but she backed away from me.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly her voice trembling. She was so precious...

"I am here to talk to you Christine, please," I stepped towards her with my hands reaching out for her and she scurried back from me.

"Don't touch me!" she said sharply and I stopped. My fairy seemed very frightened of me and I gathered myself to take this slowly. I kept my hands open, supplicating towards her, begging for forgiveness, hands outstretched.

"I swear I will not touch you, I just want to talk to you. Please Christine," she was breathing a little quickly but she stopped backing away from me and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Then talk," she ordered and I wondered when my shy little fairy had learned to be so rude.

"First, I must apologize to you, but it does not seem like a strong enough word for what I did to you." I closed my eyes trying to gain her trust. "I was so drunk that night..." I paused for dramatic effect, "You see...I have loved you for so long Christine..."

"Loved me?" she sounded taken aback and I opened my eyes again to take in her radiance. "You don't even know me Raoul!" The sound of my name on her lips made my body stir but I counselled it to be patient.

"I feel like I've known you all my life," I said softly looking down to the ground. "The first day I saw you I was twelve and you were smelling the flowers in our back gardens. You...you were so beautiful..." I looked up with tears glimmering in my eyes and she was looking at me with wide golden eyes in her shocked pretty face. "I thought you were a fairy you were so radiant, I shouted to my brother that I'd found the girl I wanted to marry...I'm sorry..." I looked down bashfully, "I must sound crazy to you..."

She didn't say anything and I looked up, hurt that she wouldn't deny my claim. She was biting her lip and my eyes focused on it as I tried to remember what her lips tasted like but I couldn't remember clearly, the alcohol had ruined that first kiss. Not today, today would be different.

"Say something Christine," I pleaded wretchedly and she took a deep breath.

"I don't know what to say. You hurt me..." she pleaded right back and she was so much better then me at it. I wanted to take her in my arms and crush her to my chest and apologize over and over for hurting her.

"I'm so sorry, Christine, I was lustful and drunken and..." I covered my face, "I've loved you for so long that I...I...I wanted you so badly and even though I knew you didn't know me from a hole in the wall I thought...I thought you would feel my boundless love for you and know it was right...God I'm a fool!" I turned away abruptly and waited for her to come to me.

"Why are you here, Raoul?" she asked from where she stood and I silently cursed her stubbornness.

I bowed my head, "I needed to apologize and make things right between us, for our families and for our fathers. I begged Julie to bring you here. I couldn't stand that I treated you so disrespectfully..."

"I forgive you," she said softly and I turned blindly.

"You do? How can you?" I cried out, going for over the top dramatics. "Your father asked me to watch out for you and take care of you and I do this?" I shouted really getting into it.

"I still forgive you," she repeated quietly and she truly was a beautiful benevolent creature. Time to play out my hand. I heard her engagement announcement today to that ugly fellow and this meeting with her was just in time. She need not do anything rash like throw her life away to that half dead looking man.

"I wasn't lying when I said your father meant us to be married," I let my statement hang in the air.

"Papa would never..." she started but I interrupted rudely and stepped closer.

"But he did! He was desperate to see you cared for. He felt he'd failed you in the worst way possible, leaving you all alone in this world." I stepped closer still because she was listening intently to my words and hadn't stepped away. "It was his dying wish to have you married safely to someone he knew and trusted. He could see how much I loved you and he met with me privately and asked me to go against my father's wishes and marry you on the spot. And I would have Christine," I dropped to my knees in front of her, heartened that she hadn't scampered away from me. "I would be so happy to marry you, just as your Papa asked me too, and give you a child, maybe a little boy and we could name him Gustave..."

She was clutching her throat with her left hand and the ring there sparkled in the evening light as tears sparkled in her eyes.

"Christine..." I crooned and reached for her right hand and she let me take it. Her skin was so soft and her fingers so dainty that I brought her hand to my cheek and nuzzled it.

This was going exceedingly well...

---

Erik

---

Soft knocking on Christine's door startled me, followed by a clear, "Christine?"

My heart started pounding because it only meant one thing. I opened the door to a surprised Meg and yanked her inside.

"Where is she?" I practically growled.

"I don't know!" her eyes widened dramatically and I tried to think past the panic in my mind. She was in the wash room or the dining room. "I've looked everywhere!" Meg added and blew both those theories away.

"When did you last see her?" I just knew something terrible was happening and I needed to find her. Now.

"At the end of rehearsal, Maman grabbed me to yell some more about you," she poked me in the chest. "Julie said she saw her walking down the hall so I thought she was in her room. Obviously not, but here you are. I'll go look for her, you stay here." She tried to leave the room and I stopped her.

"Do you trust Julie?" the name was niggling in the back of my mind but I couldn't remember why.

"Sure," Meg studied the floor, "She's catty but...well...I guess she has a reason to hate Christine but she's been really nice to her the last couple days..."

"What reason?" I towered over Meg and she pushed at me.

"Be nice to me Erik or I won't help you, geez, if that's how you treat my Mother no wonder she doesn't like you..."

"Please Meghan," I closed my eyes, the image of Christine's cold dead body was only too easy to imagine.

"Calm down, you'll be no good if you get yourself in a tizzy." Meg looked around the room, at anything but me, "Julie was...intimate with Raoul and she felt jilted when he dropped her like a hot potato for Christine."

Julie...that's right, the girl who was in the wash room...

"Then she can not be trusted," I surmised. Meg frowned at her shoes.

"I've been friends with her forever, she...she wouldn't..."

"Not so sure are you? Where did she say she saw Christine?"

"Down the hall..."

"Which hall?"

"I don't know!" Meg shouted and threw her arms around wildly. "Why am I even helping you? Maman keeps yelling at me that I've befriended a murderer and I'll go to hell for it when all I wanted was to know who you were and why you sang so sadly and why everything about you was such a secret! Is that so bad? Is that a crime?"

"Your mother made me promise to never speak to you and I broke that promise..."

Meg covered her face. "It doesn't matter!"

"Of course it matters," I grabbed her forcefully, "A man is only as good as his word."

Meg shook her head, "I don't care!"

"Well, I do and I'm not going to stand for this nonsense anymore. I will go to your mother and explain that I am a changed man; that I no longer kill people to keep myself safe. I can only hope that she has some shred of forgiveness in her but tonight..." my throat clenched thinking of Christine at the hands of some buffoon. "Meghan, I need you..." my voice broke and her lashes lifted to reveal her pretty blue eyes.

"Erik..." she reached up and cupped my face and awareness hummed through me. I suddenly remembered I was not wearing a mask and her fingertips grazed the monstrosity of my face. "You're bleeding..." her fingers came away smeared with my blood and my vision blurred as I imagined her putting those fingers in her mouth.

I quickly let go of her, disgusted with my thoughts, and she searched my face. I had fleeting visions of being intimate with Meg and the thought made me sick, not because Meg was undesirable but because just the unwanted thoughts made me feel I was being unfaithful to Christine.

My heart beat leadenly in my chest as I tried to gain control of myself. If my soul mate was in danger could I feel it? Is that why earlier I had the urge to hold her? What if she was taken from me? Would Meg Giry want to take Christine's place? It certainly seemed like she wanted to as she gazed up at me sadly with my blood on her hands. Did I make everyone around me sad?

"Will you help me?" I asked to break the macabre moment and she looked away taking a deep breath.

"Of course..." she whispered.

"Find Julie, ask her which hall specifically and come back here quickly." I shoved her out the door and then leaned on it, praying frantically to a God I mostly hated to keep my songbird safe.

---

Christine

---

Tears wanted to fall like rivers down my face at the reminder of Papa's last days. So he was trying to find me a husband before he died. That was the reason for all of it. Leaving our home and traveling here so he could marry me off to the son of one of his friends.

I desperately wanted Erik and I suddenly realized that Raoul was kissing my fingers gently. I slowly took my hand from his mouth and he looked up at me, those feverishly bright blue eyes burning with conviction and hope. They consumed his face with his shoulder length hair pulled back into a smooth tail.

"I love you Christine, so much that it doesn't even make sense! Say you will marry me and fulfill your father's dying wish?"

Part of me wanted to slap him for assuming he knew what Papa's wishes were but he was probably right. Papa would have been desperate to see me cared for.

"I'm already engaged..." I held out my hand for him to see and my fingers were trembling.

He stood and I was suddenly frightened by how close he was.

"Everything before this moment doesn't matter." He took me by the arms forcefully. "We can make our own destiny with our own choices. We belong together."

"Please let go of me," I whispered and he stopped and dropped his hands away, backing away from me.

"I've frightened you again, haven't I?" he sounded so upset and I was about to reach out to him but he wheeled away from me. "Damn you Christine for ever smelling those flowers in my garden!" he sounded bitter now and he clutched at his chest as if in physical pain.

He truly loved me and didn't even know me at all. He was willing to go against his father and marry me, a total stranger, because of what my Papa said to him, because of one look at a young girl in his garden. I took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say.

"Raoul, I'm sorry you love me."

He glanced over his shoulder and laughed an unfunny sound, "I will never be sorry that I feel this way about you."

"I can not marry you, I love another."

He sighed heartily and looked up at the sky, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Can you just forget this ever happened? Just forget you ever saw me today, I'd rather you hate me then feel sorry for me." And with that he walked away and wrenched the door open and left.

---

Raoul

---

I quickly left the roof and the opera. Things with Christine had gone well. Different then I'd hoped but overall I think she would now trust me more and hopefully allow me close to her.

So she actually loved Karan. How strange. How could she love a man who looked so...horrid?

I shrugged it off. As long as they didn't rush into the wedding I still had time to win her. She would stew over my words and hopefully would think of her father choosing me for her. My earnest apologies and dramatic pleading had certainly gotten her attention and I only hoped that tonight and every night following this she would be thinking of me and the words that I said.

I licked my lips and thought of her delicate tasty fingers. I would make sure I got the opportunity to taste more of my beautiful fairy.

---

Christine

---

I stood with my mouth open for a few long minutes after Raoul left me alone on the roof. How could I ever forget his passionate plea for me to love him? How could my heart not squeeze at his obvious pain at my rejection? There was no other choice though. I loved Erik. Every fiber of my being loved Erik. I could never love Raoul the way I loved Erik, no matter what Papa had thought best at the time. I was willing to offer him my friendship but how would that pain him, to be so close to me and yet not be his?

I now fully forgave him for his attack on me. Love was a physical force and he had this insane love for me inside him that probably drove him crazy. Hadn't Erik done much worse to me and I so easily forgave him? I could give the same respect to Raoul. He loved me just as much as Erik did, it would appear. How did things like this happen without me knowing?

This was awful. If I'd known that he loved me before...

Would I even have met Erik if Raoul had come to me after the funeral and gotten down on his knees? Would I have married Raoul without ever knowing such passion awaited me in the cellars of the opera house? That my soul mate waited for me to rescue him? Would I have lived a peaceful life as Christine De Changy, never knowing that a man was dying without ever knowing love, without ever knowing me?

Tears finally spilled freely down my face as I looked out over the roof top where I spent so many evenings with my Erik. We learned about each other and shared our love of music, slowly becoming closer as time went on. Right from the beginning I'd been transfixed by him. I didn't feel anything like that when I'd met Raoul. Erik and I were mated souls and my decision to come here to the opera house had led me straight to the man I was meant to be with. I could have gotten on that train, I could have left Paris forever but something made me stay and seek out employment at the opera house. Something drew me back to that building. God had led me straight to Erik.

The beginning of our love story was beautiful and surreal, just like all the fairytales Papa had ever told me. I was living in my very own fairytale. A mysterious reclusive masked man slowly beginning to trust the lonely orphaned singer, and I would not change it for the world on a string. I would not change it to make my Papa happy. I would not change it even to have my Papa back.

"I'm sorry Papa," I whispered to the darkening sky. I had failed my father just as surely as he felt he failed me. I was a terrible sinner now, a darkening shadow of the bright god fearing girl he had raised me to be. How was I supposed to deny my soul mate access to my body? I couldn't even deny my own urges to touch him and love him.

In a few months everything would be in the proper place and I would ask for forgiveness and the lord and my father would forgive me. "I'm so sorry..." I sobbed out loud.

"Christine?" Meg's voice rang over the roof and I quickly wiped my face.

"Meg?" she found me quickly, running to me to pull me in for a tight hug.

"Are you okay? I saw Raoul leaving the stairs and, oh my god, I thought he attacked you again!"

"No, no," I assured her letting her search my face worriedly. "He just wanted to apologize."

"Why are you crying?" she started wiping my tears with her fingertips.

"He said...he said he loved me..."

"What?" she grabbed me by the shoulders, "You didn't believe him?"

"Why wouldn't I? He was so torn apart..."

"He's told a dozen girls here that he loves them!" Meg seemed exasperated with me but pulled me along to the door. "You can't be so trusting, Christine. Erik is worried sick. He's probably ripping all his hair out right now."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell him about Raoul..." I knew it would make Erik very mad.

"If that's what you want..." Meg trailed off and we hurriedly descended from the roof so I could calm my fiancé as only my presence could.


	43. Honesty

**Author's note: Adult content warning!!! Some more steamy encounters! I feel like I just put this warning out there...geez, Erik and Christine just can't keep their hands off each other can they? But you wouldn't want them to keep their hands off each other, would you?**

**Enjoy!**

---

Erik

---

When Meg returned with my angel my heart almost burst from my chest with happiness. I crushed her to my chest and held her so tight that she patted me and said she could not breathe. I released her to take her face in my hands and saw the evidence of tears.

"You've been crying?" my question should have been enough for her to give an answer but she touched my deformity.

"You're bleeding Erik." She tried to turn, and get something to staunch the blood I'm sure, but I pulled her back in to hold her tightly.

"Who cares about that?" I murmured into her hair, "You're safe..."

"Of course I'm safe," she tried to get out of my arms but I held her to me stubbornly.

"Erik," she struggled, "You are bleeding. I don't like to see you bleeding. That is important to me."

"And it is equally unimportant to me. Do you have any idea how often my blood has stained my skin? Let me hold you, my love..." my voice disappeared as Meg's eyes met mine over Christine's back. Her face held a dozen emotions and Christine sighed like I was being silly and put her arms around me to hold me close.

"I'm fine, Erik, Julie locked me out on the roof and I couldn't open the door," she explained.

"Is that why you look so guilty?" I directed the angry question at Meg and her eyes widened.

"Guilty? I found her, Erik! You could show some gratitude!" Meg's face flushed with her anger and I tried to think past what her face was telling me. Meg was hiding something. Of that, I was certain, but now was not the time to question her.

"You are quite right, Meghan," I let my voice soften, "Forgive me, please, for my rudeness. I am very grateful that you found her unharmed," Meg looked away and shuffled her feet as the red deepened and Christine pulled back from my embrace.

"Now, can I clean your face?" she looked tired and I wondered if she slept at all after my attack as I slowly traced the apple of her cheek.

"Why were you crying?"

Her lashes fluttered down and her fingers played with the buttons of my shirt, "I was frightened."

"And why did Julie do this to you?" I tried not to sound menacing but I had a bad habit of it.

Christine shrugged delicately, "I think she's jealous of me. First I steal her best friend and then Raoul and then I get a closet of new clothing and the starring role and get engaged." Her large golden eyes sought mine, "You've made my life a fairytale, Erik. I have everything all these girls dream of." It was true, and I never thought that my extravagances where Christine were concerned could put her in danger.

"Perhaps we should leave this place, perhaps it would be safer for you to live with Nadir and..."

"Oh no, Erik!" She grabbed my shirt, "I must stay! I cannot run from every problem or I will never learn to be better and stronger. Don't you want me to be better and stronger?"

"Julie won't try anything again," Meg vowed and one look at the anger on her face was enough to assure me that she would be a little more careful where Christine was concerned.

"Whatever you wish," I let her go finally, knowing they both were hiding something, and she went for a cloth right away.

"How did you hurt yourself?" she asked as she gently dabbed the blood from my missing cheek, her eyes intent on her task.

"The adhesive held a little too well when I pulled the mask off."

"Oh Erik," she sighed and continued to tend to me while I watched Meg watching us.

"Would you like me to speak to your mother tonight, Meghan?"

She started as if she'd been daydreaming and she blinked at me, "Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. I think this has gone on long enough. You and I have a common interest in Christine and since neither one of us is willing to forgo that interest then clearing this up as soon as possible would be preferable."

"Stop talking," Christine admonished me while gently wiping my cheek. "You ripped a whole patch of skin right off, Erik. Don't you have some solvent you could have used?"

"Am I supposed to answer you or stop talking?" I looked down at my precious lover and her lashes fluttered and she started smiling.

"Don't be silly," she pushed me lightly and playfully, her smile growing. "Actually I take that back." Her eyes met mine and the intense golden glow made my heart skip a beat, "I like it when you're silly. Keep being silly," she laughed and Meg rolled her eyes behind Christine's back.

"Meghan?" I snared her attention and she met my eyes, obviously thinking I meant to give her away to Christine but I only raised my eyebrow at her.

"Tonight would be nice." She said quietly and looked down at the ground, "I don't want to fight with my mother any more."

"Then I will speak to her tonight, have either of you eaten?" I asked mildly, guessing at the answer. A duet of no came at me and I took Christine's hands from my face. "If you both will please go and get something to eat before nothing is left, I will visit with Mme Giry. Say we meet back here later if everything goes well and if it doesn't..." I shrugged. "I imagine she'll be coming to find you so she can yell at you some more." Meg rolled her eyes again at my attempt at a joke.

"If it wasn't about you, it would be about something else. Maman likes to yell, I think that's why she likes her job so much."

I kissed Christine on the cheek before she left even though I wanted to do much more, I didn't want to subject Meg to our...carrying on. When they both left I passed through the mirror and went down below to fetch my old mask. My new one was for stepping out with Christine, Antoinette could endure my old style. Besides, I didn't really want to put adhesive over my raw skin.

I walked up through the tunnels to her room wondering what the girls were hiding from me. Something else had happened on that roof and I knew they were keeping it from me. It might just be a minor detail but Meg had looked excessively guilty and angry. Maybe she felt guilt for trusting someone so obviously untrustworthy or maybe she just felt bad that this had happened because she wasn't able to watch over Christine. I was a little hurt that Christine would conspire to keep something from me but perhaps she wished to tell me when we were alone. Maybe she was just waiting to tell me later. I would give my sweet angel the benefit of the doubt. Antoinette, on the other hand, needed dealing with promptly but I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind to be talking to her. I would make do I suppose.

I knocked on her door for the second time ever and when she opened it her eyes widened and she threw the door wide for me to come in. I closed the door behind me and she started in on me.

"You broke your word, you've turned my daughter against me!" I thought if she wasn't so scared of me she might have tried to hit me.

"You turned her against you all by yourself," I was still quite wound up from Christine's disappearance and really should not be trying to make friends right now. "If you weren't so judgmental..."

"Judgmental!" her eyes lighted with her inner fire. "You are a murderer!"

"And are murderers not forgiven by God and allowed into Heaven?" I spat back at her.

"To gain forgiveness there must be repentance."

"And who are you to judge whether I've repented or not!"

Silence filled the room and I could hear my labored breathing. If I wasn't careful I was going to have an attack or worse, hurt Antoinette.

"I can see...I can feel the evil in you..." she whispered and I glowered at her, which did not dispell what she thought or felt about me at all.

"And what about the evil in you?" that surprised her.

"What?"

"There is evil in you as well, Antoinette," she quickly covered her ears.

"Don't say my name!" she squeezed her eyes shut and I stopped. "How many times have you whispered Meghan's name? How tightly are you binding her to you?"

It was my turn to be shocked, "What?"

"Don't think I don't feel it when you cast your spell! Your compulsions may force my compliance but it doesn't make me evil," she lifted her chin. "It only makes me weak."

I tried to regain my train of thought, "Yes, so weak that instead of trying to help me when I was a child, you just came to watch my humiliation. You must have enjoyed seeing me in a cage where I was poked and prodded to sing like a monkey on a chain. You probably loved to see the evil creature beaten and subdued into obedience. You are just as bad as the men who would beat me, as the men who bled me, because you never lifted a hand to help."

"But...that's...that's why I..."

"Why you take care of my mail?" I laughed and it sounded cruel. "I thought I paid you to do that? And according to your daughter I pay you too much." I crossed my arms and waited for her to comment.

"Without your money...I...I wouldn't be able to give Meghan so much," she was almost in tears.

"So I've helped you then? That does not sound very evil of me. In fact, that sounds rather nice of me!"

Her lips trembled as she stared at me, questions flickering in her eyes. "What do you want of me?"

"I want you to allow Meghan to escort Christine to her dinners. I had to attend last night because of your childishness," she didn't need to know that I would also be attending along side the girls. "I also want you to stop yelling at Meghan over me." There were a few other things I wanted from Antoinette, like explanations on how she could feel my evil nature and how she knew I was hypnotizing her, but for now, that would do.

"I don't want you to taint my daughter..."

"Oh please," I waved my hand. "I don't even know what your talking about. Meghan loves Christine and I love Christine, something has to change to make this work and I assure you it will not be me. I am tired of seeing Meghan cry over me. Does it not taint her heart, to be fighting with you constantly? Does it not hurt her to be torn in two by her mother and her friend? Are you not tainting your own daughter with your ridiculous prejudices against me and lord knows who else?"

Tears finally spilled down Antoinette's face, "Yes," she gasped.

"Then stop yelling at your daughter for being a better person than you! I am trying to be a good man. I am trying to repent for things I have done in my past, but when silly judgmental women make me want to wring their necks it doesn't bode well for my forgiveness, does it?"

She shook her head wildly with her hand pressed over her mouth and I realized I just threatened her.

Damn. Time to go then.

"I will continue to pay you if you will continue to provide me with my mail. I will not seek out Meghan but if she happens to be with Christine I will not ignore her. You have raised a lovely young lady and I do hate to see her crying but that does not mean I have any designs on her besides wanting her to think I'm a good man for her friend. Do not ruin this for me."

I left before I threatened her again. I wasn't sure if that was going to do the trick but it was good to get this out in the open between us. She knew I was evil, just like Molly and my mother but I would show them that I could overcome that evil. I had an angel who loved me, surely that meant that God thought I had the strength to overcome my nature. Otherwise how could He ever trust me with one of His perfect angels?

---

Christine

---

"He knows we're hiding something, Christine," Meg whispered as we headed back to my room after eating dinner.

"I know," I sighed. I didn't want to keep anything from Erik but I knew that hearing about Raoul was not going to make him smile. "Maybe I'll try to tell him later tonight."

"Tonight?" she grabbed my arm, "Does he stay with you?"

"Oh," I blushed clear to my hairline thinking of last night on the floor of my room with Erik and I realized Meg didn't even know about his home beneath the opera. "Sometimes..." I finally mumbled and Meg laughed.

"Here I thought you were so proper," she tickled my side and I tried to evade and we stumbled through my door tickling each other and laughing only to be interrupted by a serious voice.

"Ladies," Erik was standing at the far end of my room with his white mask over half his face and his arms crossed.

"Erik," I smiled wide and went to bury my face in his chest to inhale his spicy masculine scent. Just holding him felt so good, so right. He hugged me tightly and then released me and turned me so that I'd go join Meg on my bed.

"I spoke to Antoinette though I'm not sure if I've made things better or worse," he started. "Your mother is truly infuriating," he directed his comment at Meg and she laughed, smiling widely.

"Now you know how I feel, except multiply it by a lifetime!"

"I hope that she will desist in yelling at you, I hate that I am the cause of such distress in your life," he was paying attention to Meg again and I could feel the jealousy burning below the surface but it was dampened by everything he'd said to me yesterday in the carriage.

He _is_ mine.

"Thank you Erik, for trying. I'll let you know if it works," she smiled brightly and then hopped up from the bed. "I should leave you two alone. Good night Christine, Erik," and she bustled out the door, blatantly winking at me before shutting it firmly.

Silence echoed around us and I fiddled with my skirts instead of looking at Erik. He stayed ominously silent as he walked slowly to stand in front of me. I waited for him to reach for me, talk to me, something! But he just stood there in his shiny black shoes and his perfectly tailored pants. It was so quiet that I could hear my clock ticking right before he moved. One hand rose and when it dropped back down to his side, the mask was held within it.

"Why?" he whispered quietly and I looked up at him finally. The blood had dried over his torn skin and it left his birthmark looking different to me, darker and even deeper. I worried that if he tore any more skin off, his teeth would show through his cheek. The wound had altered his face and my eyes were riveted, trying to re-memorize it.

"What?" I was not sure why he was asking why and he dropped to his knees in front of me, his eyes filling with pain.

"Why Christine? Why would you lie to me?"

Betrayal pierced my heart and I reached out to cup his face, "I didn't want to hurt you!" I confessed.

"And does this not hurt me just as badly, to know my love is lying to me?"

"I wasn't lying...I was...omitting..." tears collected in my eyes because I knew he was right and Erik grabbed my arms much like Raoul had before he strode away.

"How am I to keep you safe if you are not honest with me? How am I to make you happy if you are not honest with me? How am I to know if my actions hurt you or confuse you or anger you if you are not honest with me?" His eyes burned with intensity as his voice wavered with emotion, "I need you to trust in me that I will react appropriately when you tell me things. Otherwise, how can I ever trust myself?"

"I'm sorry," my lips quivered, knowing I had hurt Erik very deeply with this. "I was afraid you would be angry!"

He studied me silently and when his voice came again, it was under complete control, "Does my anger frighten you?"

I felt like this was an important question and I stopped my foolish tongue from saying a quick unthinking answer.

"Never mind, that is not tonight's issue," he quickly decided he didn't want to know. "I wish to clear up what happened this evening." I nodded and swallowed and opened my mouth and then closed my mouth. "Christine," his sad eyes begged me and I finally closed mine to speak.

"Julie locked me up there because Raoul was waiting for me," I thought I heard him growl and continued quickly. "He only wanted to apologize for his behavior and then he left, I didn't want to hurt you by telling you when I was safe the whole time and not in any danger..."

"How do you know when you are in danger?" his voice whisked angrily. "How many times have you been in danger in your life?"

"I know...Erik, I know you are right and I'm sorry." I let my hands creep over his shoulders to massage them gently, "Please," I begged him, "Please forgive me...I will never keep anything from you...ever..."

His stormy eyes boiled at me, "Nothing ever?" he questioned harshly even though I felt the muscles in his shoulders relaxing.

"Can I keep presents I buy for you a secret or must I reveal those as well?" His lips twitched and I pressed on, "I refuse to tell you what my wedding dress will look like."

"Enough," he rose on his knees and wrapped his arms around me to pull me to his body. My legs spread around his lean hips and he kissed my temple chastely. "I do not trust Raoul, my sweet. He tried to lie to his own father in front of Nadir and I. How can you be sure he was not trying to trick you?"

"I can't," I admitted, "But nothing happened this time so I am left trusting him for now."

He took a deep breath, "Then I trust your judgment."

"You do?" I couldn't help saying and he looked at me, with the look that was all mine.

"Of course I do, ma chardonnerette. You above all others," he gently pushed the hair back from my cheek to kiss it. "You are...you are so dear to me..." his voice disappeared and his mouth covered mine. The soft give of his perfectly imperfect lips had my lashes fluttering and I invited him into my mouth so we could kiss each other deeply. His hands fisted in my hair, his arms holding me hard to his body but his lips and tongue stayed soft and exploring and when he pulled back I thought I saw tears glimmering in his eyes.

I automatically touched his face, about to ask him but he rose to his feet and spoke softly, "Come with me..."

I rose and took his hand and we traveled through the mirror and down through the passageways into Erik's darkness. As we walked the bank of the lake I remember just days ago, frolicking in the water and the first night we made love and it all seemed like it had happened centuries ago. We passed into his home and he asked me if I needed or wanted anything. I excused myself for a moment to my room, saying I wanted to change from my dress and not leave it on the floor as had become our habit.

My heart felt heavy and I knew it was because of Raoul and his confessions. Erik counselled me to trust in his reactions but I couldn't even begin to fathom how he would take it if I told him Raoul loved me. I wanted to spill everything to Erik about Papa and his reasons for leaving our home but I still couldn't find the words. I could barely believe my father had thought I would want that.

Erik would say that he was merely trying to see me cared for but how could Papa think to get rid of me in such a manner. If he had found a man who didn't love me would he still have offered me to him? Would he have hoped that I could find peace and safety, if not love? What would Erik say if I told him all of this? My sinful fall from grace and the path my life had taken were quite far from the path Papa wanted. If things had worked out as he wanted then I would still be pure in the eyes of the lord. But then perhaps Raoul would have taken me before marriage as well. He obviously desired me very much. Could he have waited?

I felt terrible that Raoul loved me and yet I felt little to nothing for him. Could I maybe be friends with him if he wanted even that much from me. When he left the roof he was so upset that he would rather I hate him than feel this way. Was Raoul destined to be part of my life just as Erik was destined to be mine? Erik would have to speak with him, but before that could happen I would have to reveal everything that was said on that roof. Surely if Erik knew of Raoul's feelings he would forgive him. Would it make his attack on me less dastardly in Erik's eyes? Could the two of them eventually be friends if I pushed them into it?

I put down my hairbrush when I really wanted to toss it. I didn't want to be thinking of Raoul and I had to stop delaying, Erik would know something was wrong with me. I twirled the wrapper around me but didn't bother to tie it up.

I opened my door and Erik was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs only a few steps from my door, arms crossed and glowering. I must have looked startled because he closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Tell me the rest," his voice whirred in my ears and my heart picked up pace.

"The rest?" I foolishly repeated even though I knew it was useless to lie to him.

"The rest," his stormy eyes settled on me like twin tornadoes and my heart was fluttering in my throat. He'd asked if his anger scared me and I hadn't answered because the answer was yes. His anger terrified me but part of me seemed to find sick pleasure in that terror.

"He said my father asked him to marry me, he said that he loves me and wants to fulfill my father's dying wish, he said he's loved me since he was twelve when he saw me in his garden smelling..." Erik stood and the chair hit the ground with force, stopping my words.

"And what did you say to him?" his voice was even and cool, his hands fisted at his sides and I wondered how I had ever forgotten that Erik had this other being inside him; this angry, volatile person that surfaced every once in awhile.

"I told him I was sorry that he loved me. That I couldn't marry him. That I loved another."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound in his cavernous home. I could hear my heart pulsing in my ears and I admonished myself for being so frightened of my fiancee. I took a step towards his forbearing frame and his eyes raised, his face dangerously still.

"Did he touch you?" his voice was eerie.

"Only a little..." Erik started towards me.

"Did he kiss you?" my brow furrowed remembering the kisses on my fingers.

"No Erik! Really! Do you think I'd let..." I was suddenly thrown over his shoulder and carried into my room. "What are you doing?" I squirmed from my perch looking down his back.

"Proving that you are mine!" he yelled.

"I am yours Erik, you're being ridicu..."

"Then why did you not tell me this!" he tossed me onto my bed, onto my backside as he towered over me. "You've been thinking of Him!" he roared at me, "You were hiding in here..." he pointed and swallowed hard, swallowing his anger, his throat convulsing, "Hiding from me to think of him..."

My heart broke at the pain in his voice and I was the one hurting him this time. I was the one torturing him. I scrambled to my knees to reach out for him.

"Erik..." I tried but he cut me off.

"You think your father knew what was best for you in his last delirious days. That you should have married that idiot who attacked you in a public washroom, who shoved his cock in your face and told you to put it in your mouth! I guess anything would be better than sharing your life with an evil deformed madman!"

He was quickly unraveling and I was too naive, too innocent to know what to do. I held up my hand so he could see my ring.

"This is your ring, Erik! I love you and want to marry you! No matter where my thoughts go, my heart, my body and soul are yours..."

He growled and leapt onto the bed. His eyes were fierce and his snarl deadly and my body froze in fear.

"I want your thoughts too..." his voice growled from his throat and he pushed me down onto the bed.

"You have them..." I whimpered as his hands skimmed down my body, pulling the wrapper off my arms and underneath me to toss it away. He then tore the chemise from me like it was made of spider webs and nothing more. I felt my core weep for him and I tightly clenched my legs together, embarrassed by my body's reaction to his roughness.

"You are mine..." he growled before biting my breast and then sucking hard on it. His tongue flicked over my nipple and the tingling waves of pleasure shot through my body and left my mouth with a gasp. His hands shackled my wrists and held them away from me over my head as he moved to straddle me, still fully clothed.

"Look at me, Christine! Look at the beast who loves you!" I couldn't stand him calling himself that and I growled right back at him.

"Look at the whore who loves you and lays with you!"

He blinked in surprise and his eyes showed confusion beneath the anger but I'd said it, and now the floodgates of my insecurities were opened.

"I can barely stand that you're still dressed," I squirmed underneath him, pushing my hips up and pulling on my wrists. "I wish I was wearing five nightshirts so you could tear every one of them from my body! I wish I had the strength to pin YOU down and do what we did last night! I wish we would stop all this shouting and use our mouths for better things! Kiss me Erik!" I commanded angrily and his eyes darkened in understanding. He fell on me with a ravenous hunger and I answered him with mine. Our teeth rubbed as we ate at each other's mouths. My tongue couldn't get far enough in his mouth and I bit his lip in frustration. He pulled back and I grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tore it from his chest. Buttons popped off and satisfaction raced through me. He whisked the shirt the rest of the way off and I lifted myself to lick his chest in a long line.

He made a strangled noise in his throat and then he pushed me back down to the bed. His mouth moved over me, from my neck to my chest, down my ribs and over my stomach as his hands held me down and my body quaked and arched and I moaned his name and told him I wanted him.

"And how I want you, my goddess..." he breathed over my breasts and I lifted my hips.

"Take me..." I encouraged wantonly. He laughed and moved lower down.

"I will..." he kissed my stomach, biting me gently now on my hips and shifting his body between my legs.

"Erik..." I whined, arching my hips towards him, knowing he was still wearing pants. Suddenly his fingers slid into me and I was gasping for air. He pumped them in and out of me quickly, making my hands scramble at the bedding and my neck arch back in ecstasy and then he pulled them out.

I flopped back down with hitching breath, and he was watching me.

"What..." I managed before he did it to me again. My body bowed under the mastery of his hands and he played me over and over, tightening and releasing me, until I was completely mindless with longing for completion. I would move my body on his hand all by myself, trying to push myself over that final threshold without his help.

He released me again and I lay panting, waiting for the feeling of being filled again, of being whole again. I waited but instead I felt his tongue flick out and over my quivering flesh. My hips jumped in surprise and his laughter feathered hotly over my sensitive threshold as his long hands slid to hold my hips.

"Steady..." he purred and then licked me again. My eyes fluttered shut at the wet feel of his tongue touching my most intimate of places. He explored my flesh with his mouth, kissing and laving at the entrance to my body like I tasted good. His muffled groans sent ripples of a heady sensation through me and I buried my hands in his hair, wanting to touch some part of him as he made strange and wondrous love to my body.

My hips rocked with the sweeps of his tongue and I could feel the pressure, unlike anything before it, mounting, growing, gnawing at my stomach, making me move my body, making my grip tighten in his hair. I was floating, I was flying, he was making me fly, throwing me into the sky...I was breathless...I was free...I was a goddess...

Pressure exploded and I called his name, my hips jerking as he kept loving me. He licked at my entrance, driving my body into twitches and my brain into mush until I begged him to stop.

The licking stopped long enough for him to say ,"No," and then the assault continued. He mercilessly loved me with his mouth, not stopping to breathe it would seem as his tongue flicked and laved and circled my aching entrance. I was imagining his hard manhood driving itself into me and my body shuddered with want. My hands left his hair because I thought I might rip it out trying to pull him up my body. I wanted his whole body over me, filling my arms, filling me, joining us...

I moaned at the thought of how it would feel if he took me right now, savagely, roughly...

"Erik..." I pleaded desperately and he slowly slid his fingers into my yearning core. My back arched tightly and my body quivered as I grabbed handfuls of the bedding and he made exquisite love to me with his hands and mouth.

I was keening like an animal in distress as the fire built inside me again and when he tipped me over the edge of fulfillment, my body shook and I cried out his name in desperation. He released me and I sagged to the bed, relieved but also sad it was over, blissfully euphoric and throbbing. The bed was wet beneath me and I felt almost numb from the pleasure and he stood at the foot of the bed looking down at me.

My vision was too blurry to see his expression and I tried to lift my arms to him.

"Erik..." I still wanted him. The thought of him entering me right now sent little shock waves through my nether region. Is this what he meant about proving I was his? Would I forever yearn for our bodies to be one? Would no other man be able to do this to me?

I shuddered at that thought. I didn't want another man to ever do this to me. I didn't want another man to ever touch me. I only wanted Erik. Forever. "Please..." I whispered and he looked away from me for a moment before muttering something and bending to strip his pants off.

He climbed over me and I couldn't help the satisfied smile from curling my lips. He hovered over me as if debating and his engorged manhood brushed my aching entrance.

I wound my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, pulling him down onto and into me. He slid into me like coming home and I wiggled slowly with satisfaction while he groaned and gathered me in his arms.

"I love you Christine," he sounded so sad and I wanted to chase that voice away. I thought I had chased that voice away. I clutched him close, wishing I could turn back time and have never caused him any hurt.

"I love you Erik, only you...I was made for you...I truly believe it...my body, my voice...they were made to please you..."

"I know love..." his fingers traced my face and he kissed me softly, "I know..." he began to move in me and I couldn't speak anymore.


	44. Connected

**Author's note: Hello all my faithful readers! Forgive me for my long absence but my computer died over a month ago and I have just had my new one delivered into my hands. I lost a lot of my pictures, my baby's first christmas, her first birthday, her first trip to the ocean...**

**Luckily, the chapters for Raging Fires were saved! Yippee!! But let me warn all of you out there about the importance of backing up the things that are important to you. I lost so many beautiful memories of my baby's first year, don't let something like this happen to you!**

**Now I think I may go and cry because I'll never see those priceless pictures of my little girl's first taste of chocolate cake, and it smeared all over her chubby face... **

**Lots of reviews might cheer me up??**

**Enjoy!**

---

Erik

---

When Christine fell asleep after our lovemaking I stood from her bed and ran my hands over my face. The heady scent of her dew was on my hands and around my mouth and it was arousing me all over again. I knew I had to wash it off or I would shake her awake to make love to her again so I moved into her wash room to quickly wash myself.

I peered at my naked deformity, checking the torn skin with indifference and surmising it would heal. I didn't understand why Christine got upset at the sight, it's not as if it would affect my looks.

I finished up in the washroom and then stood over Christine, a shadowy figure of regret, replaying our argument and the aftermath. I never wanted to get so angry with her but I was insensed that she still had kept things from me. I knew as soon as she was in her room for more than five minutes that something else had happened. Damn that idiot boy for filling Christine's head with lies. And now I would always wonder how she really felt about all of it. Her father had chosen him for her, no matter how utterly retarded I thought he was, her father had hoped he would keep her safe once he was gone and now Raoul was the one threatening our happiness. Even if he only desired her, how was it any different from how I desired her?

She rolled in her sleep and reached out but I was not in bed with her and she clutched the pillow and fell back asleep.

I felt so weak when it came to her. In my anger I'd wanted to show my dominance over her, show her that she belonged to me. What better way than to make love to her without actually joining our bodies? It would have proved she was indeed mine in even the most intimate of ways but her innocent passion for me was incredibly arousing and I was a weak, foolish man. As soon as she pulled my body into hers, I knew it was not she who was mine but me that was hers.

Whatever she wanted I would give. Whatever she forced me to take, I would endure. If she said the words goodbye to me, first my heart would shatter and then I think I would lose my mind and if another man was involved, if Raoul was involved, I would probably kill him and then I'd kill myself.

It sounded so neat and easy when I was only thinking these things but just the thought of Christine thinking of another man had made such jealous rage fire within me.

How did I contain such monstrous rage when Cameron was making her laugh and praising her and kissing her fingers and then one thought of Raoul even near her and I wanted to tear something apart.

Did I consider that horny child of a man as more competition then the charming, musically talented invalid? Was his confinement to a chair the reason for my ease with him touching Christine? Did I honestly think that someone as kind hearted as Christine would see Cameron in a different light as she saw everyone else? Would we all be equal in her eyes?

How could a murderous freak ever be equal to anyone?

I growled in annoyance and left her room to go boil water. I needed to take laudanum tonight. I couldn't let my health deteriorate with Christine to care for and I did not want to subject her to another 'fit'. Best if I made sure to sleep while she was sleeping.

I wandered over to the piano while I was waiting and ran my hands over the keys. I felt like it had been ages since I played. How had I gone so long without music? Was that maybe some of my current health problem? I'd been using music as a conduit for my emotions for so long that perhaps I'd been neglecting this facet of my health. I sat down and started weaving my turbulent feelings into music.

She came to me like something from a dream, a very good dream. Her hair was loose and rumpled, tumbling down her back. The coverlet from the bed was wrapped around her naked body and my heart and fingers swelled with joyful music when I saw her smiling face. She twirled on her way to me, as if caught within the current of my music and when one of her soft warm hands rested on my shoulder, she sang to me of fated love. Of our love. Of destiny.

The song flowed with my emotions and her words and I felt as if our souls were dancing on the waves of feeling that we both spilled out for one another. Our hearts soared in tandem and I wanted to sing with her but instead wove the feeling back into the music. We created a magnificent piece of music and when it began to slow and finally fade, I turned to look at her and she touched my face lovingly, her eyes burning in the dim light.

I unravelled the coverlet from her body, without a word, and she twirled to help me and then stood naked before me in all her glorious perfection.

"Does this ever end?" she whispered as she searched my face.

"What, my love?" I drew her close, still seated on the bench.

"This...wanting..." her eyes glowed at me. "You just left me but I...I want you again..." she whispered as if embarrassed.

I laughed softly as my hands slid over her small waist and up the curve of her back under her curtain of hair, "Believe me, I want you again too..." I nibbled her shoulder as I drew her tighter into my embrace.

"But...how do you restrain yourself?" her hands played on my scarred back as her lips caressed my neck.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to?"

"I know you do though. How are we supposed to resist?" her lips reached for mine and I gave them.

"I don't know pet," I murmured as I kissed her swollen lips and cupped her backside to press our bodies. She sighed into me and our tongues lazily mated with a promise of heat. A few escalating minutes of kisses and caresses had us both panting lightly and she pulled back to stare into my eyes.

"Is this how it is for everyone?" her voice was weak as she searched my face for answers.

"Is it enough to know it is for you and I?" my voice hoarse with arousal, my heart racing with want, my hands itching to pull her back in and devour her.

She smiled, slow and saucy, her golden eyes weighing me down with their desire and then she bit her lip. "Can we go to bed? I'm cold," she rubbed her hands down her arms and I scooped her up quickly as she giggled.

"I'll do my best to warm you," I vowed as I brought her into my bedroom.

We settled on the bed together and her hands explored my body with a new abandon. I fully remember her angry confessions as I held her down in her bed and I wondered if releasing those words, her innermost desires, had taken some of her innocent restraint away. She actually enjoyed it when I was rough with her and now she was letting her hands freely wander my body as she never had before. She always thoroughly enjoyed touching my chest and arms and ass but suddenly her hands were boldly grazing my thighs and groin and she reached to take my cock in her hands. She hesitated for a second as I held my breath in shock and then she began to stroke me.

My eyes fluttered shut as her hands gently rode over me, squeezing lightly. Her hands...

They were like warm satin on my hard cold flesh and I wanted her to keep touching me all night long. My hips seemed to move of their own volition, coaxing her to keep going, while I manfully held back the moans and groans that wanted to be voiced. I could not take my gaze off her as she carefully loved me, though I basked in her desire to please me like it was the warm sun on my face, my eyes stayed open, watching her. She looked up and her eyes were full of heat and desire and I had to make her stop or risk spilling myself.

"Actually that reminds me..." she sat up. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Right now?" I asked, a little bewildered and breathless from her ministrations.

"It has to do with what we're doing," she blushed and curled her legs up to hold them to her chest.

"Okay...?" I sat up and threw my pillow over my groin. I was quite wound up with the happenings of the last few minutes and I didn't want either of us to be horribly distracted by a huge erection. Though seeing her distracted by it might be amusing...

"I don't want to get pregnant," she whispered into her knees.

"Ever?" I asked, surprised by the tiny pang of loss I felt.

"No, no, I want children...just...not now..."

"I've taken care of it," I assured her and she looked over curiously.

"What do you mean? I mean...I read there are ways...but..." she looked back at her knees.

"Is that why you have my medical text?" a smile formed on my face. Why my curious little minx...

"That and for other reasons..." she trailed off, burning an interesting shade of crimson.

"I have taken care of it, Christine. I did not want you with child before we were married but I wasn't so sure I could keep my hands off you until then," one hand strayed to twirl some of her hair as proof of my weakness where she was concerned.

"How...may I ask?" she rested her head on her knees, looking every bit an innocent, curious fairy perched on my bed.

"It is a herb that I take that disminishes my ability to produce seed."

"Is it permanant?" she looked horrified.

"No, no, it only works if I continue taking it," I assured her.

"When did you start taking it?"

"Before our first night together, I am not sure it will be one hundred percent effective but it was the least invasive technique." The others dealt with the woman having to insert...inanimate things. I did not want to subject Christine to that.

"So I could be pregnant right now..." she trailed off as her face went serious.

"If you are, I will marry you tomorrow," I vowed.

"Oh," her face changed, "Then I am definitely pregnant!" She grinned girlishly at me and I furrowed my brow at her.

"How can you be sure?" I tossed aside the pillow and crawled to her, thinking of putting my ear to her stomach.

"Because I am sure I want to marry you tomorrow so I must be pregnant," she giggled as I grabbed her and rolled her beneath me. I kissed her a few times and then stared down at my angel.

"Why do you not want a child?" I did wonder if her reasons were similar to my own.

"Besides the obvious, Erik..." her eyes rolled but her hands slid to cup my backside. "I want you all to myself for awhile," she breathed at my mouth and we did not make any coherent speech for quite some time.

Instead, I made love to her slowly, kissing and touching every inch of her bare soft skin. I wanted to make up for my earlier roughness even though she claimed to enjoy it, I wanted to worship her body just as thoroughly as I worshipped her presence in my life.

Her shoulders and her wrists were soft against my lips; the inside of her elbows warm and pulsing with life; the length of her thighs muscular yet plush and my lips even travelled to her ankles, which made her giggle breathily. She took my hand at one point and sucked on my fingers, which made my body tremble to join us, or make her do something that was highly indecent.

Finally, after many long minutes of rolling, kissing and caressing one another I settled myself between her legs and she wrapped them around my hips. I entered her slowly, staring into her eyes and she gasped prettily as I rocked my body fully into hers. Her hands swept through my hair and she pulled my lips down to hers. She kissed me. Her tongue traced into my mouth and so many good emotions filtered through me that I wanted to weep with happiness. She wanted me just as I was; as much as I wanted her and I pulled back to watch the desire burn in her eyes as I made love to her.

My body moved in and out of hers slowly as I reveled in the feel of her eager body beneath me. Her hands grasped at me as her legs tightened around me and every once and awhile her neck would arch back and her eyes would flutter closed but they always came back to mine, on fire with the intensity of our love. I finally could control myself no longer and my speed increased, my thrusts growing in vigor and Christine, my exquisite angel, moaned my name and pulled me to her neck. She bit me hard and though it was painful a smile curled my lips at my intoxicated vixen.

I was hers, she was mine. Wasn't it all the same?

I closed my teeth over part of her shoulder, since she seemed to like it. Her hips bucked under me as I bit her and she cried out in pleasure and I was suddenly tightly clamped within the confines of her body. I groaned and wondered if it hurt her for me to continue but at this point I didn't think I could stop. I rode in and out of her while she clung desperately to me, small whimpers and twitches giving away the overwhelming fury of my unfulfilled desire. My brain began to grow fuzzy and I suddenly felt like my movements resembled that of a rutting animal. I growled at the thought of hurting her and her enjoying it and I finally climaxed within her. She sighed in relief, pressing tiny kisses to my neck as she sagged to the bed.

"I love you," I murmured, regaining some sanity and kissing her brow as her hands lazily trailed down my arms to flop to the bed.

"I love you too..." she slurred and her eyes fluttered closed.

When I rose from, this time my own bed, but a post pleasured, sleeping Christine none the less, I dragged myself to the kitchen and my water. It had almost boiled away but there was just enough to make the tea.

I drank it quickly before I could doubt what I was doing and then curled myself around Christine. As I drifted down into my drug induced slumber I held my angel very close to me.

---

Christine

---

I sat in rehearsal thinking about Erik. Carlotta was absent again and so I was back sitting in the audience, being called to the stage only when needed and thinking about Erik.

He said he wanted my thoughts and today he fully had them. I could scarcely believe I'd vowed to never hurt him and then senselessly lied to him and thought I would get away with it. He reads people's faces, Christine. How stupid are you? And over Raoul of all people.

I sighed and shifted in my seat, my feminine place feeling slightly sensitive after the night that we shared. I never imagined that people made love in the various ways that Erik was showing me. I also never imagined that I would so enjoy it when he roughly pushed me to the bed and held me down...

Never have I seen Erik look so savage as when he leapt upon my bed and never had I been so aroused by him. Was it terrible that his anger, the edge of danger, had heightened my pleasure? I knew he would never really hurt me and he would only be that angry if he truly adored me...

It was terrible of me. I was supposed to be giving him happiness and laughter and love, not hurting him and making him mad. Making him question where my heart lies...

I sighed heartily and shifted again. I'd been asleep when his mournful music called to me, just as it always did, but this time I fully embraced the experience and the song that we created together had been magical. I wondered if one day him and I could perform our mystical masterpieces for an audience...

A lazy smile curled my lips as I recalled rolling in his bed afterwards. His music made my soul sing, his touch made my body sing, I felt delirious when our bodies were one and empty when they were not. I knew it was a sin but I could never deny that I now only felt half alive the moments between being in his arms...

I idly twisted my ring, thinking of waiting until the summer to bring righteousness to my sinful evenings. Maybe I could convince Erik we needed to get married sooner then that.

This morning he woke and smiled at me and called me his wife as he rolled my naked body onto his to hold me close. I sighed again wondering how I'd gotten to this point so easily. Sleeping with a man out of wedlock...

It still sounded so bad to me but he was my soul mate. How was I to resist those eyes, that voice, those graceful long hands that knew every secret curve of my body...

I warmed in my seat and was glad that I was called to the stage. It served as a good distraction from where my thoughts had been traveling. Near the end of rehearsal, the managers came in with Carlotta and the smug look on her face had me worried in an instant.

"Mlle Daae," the managers bowed, "May we speak with you privately?"

I followed them out and all the way to their office. Apparently, Carlotta had convinced them that the two of us could not peacefully co-exist at rehearsals. She wanted to have her share of days at rehearsals without my presence distracting her. I tried to listen without forming judgments but the more I listened the more I realized that perhaps Erik was right about Carlotta.

"So, I can not be at rehearsal if Carlotta is there?" I was wondering when I would practice my secondary parts with the cast and asked as much.

The managers exchanged glances, "We did not think that far ahead..."

"We were worried she would leave us..."

"She is a star all across Italy..."

"Our business would surely fail without her..."

I bit the inside of my lip because I wanted to ask how they could so easily have forgotten my performance for the closing night of Faust but I did not want to brag.

"I will think on this," meaning I wanted to speak to Erik about it. "May I come speak to you tomorrow, regarding my wishes?" surely they would not pay me as much as promised if I wasn't doing anything to earn that money...

"Yes, of course, Mlle, our door is always open."

I left their office highly irritated. Carlotta was being nothing but awful. Even as her understudy, I spent the entire day yesterday singing with the chorus and playing a few small roles that needed filling. I didn't mind being the understudy and perhaps not even having a role, but I did expect to keep singing and acting and that would be impossible if she wouldn't allow me at rehearsal.

I turned down the hall to the theatre and Mme Giry was standing there.

"Bonjour Christine," she nodded in greeting and I felt a tiny spurt of trepidation at her appearance here.

"Bonjour," I nodded as well and she smiled wanely at me.

"I must speak with you about Meg."

"Of course," I agreed, glad she was here about Meg and not Erik.

"I am sorry if my behavior has caused you any problems but I do wish for you to continue your friendship with my daughter. You are the first girl here who has been a good influence on her and I would hate for it to end because of my doing. I may not approve of your choice in men but it should have little effect on your friendship with Meg." She gave me a look and I looked right back at her, not about to say anything regarding Erik and Meg being friends. She continued after a stony moment of silence.

"Meghan is such an impulsive and spirited girl that I know she is far more matured than girls her age should be and I think being your friend will show her that she need not be so outspoken and careless with men. For a girl of sixteen she has already been introduced to many unsavory things and I wish I could turn back time and keep my daughter from following in my footsteps and becoming a dancer but you've seen her dance, she loves it. I almost lost her two years ago, and now I can never deny her anything."

Mme Giry sighed and looked away from me as I tried to hide my shock at Meg's age. I'd thought she was my age or older, certainly not younger. And did she say lose her?

"I feel as if I'm babbling," she smoothed her dress and picked a piece of lint from it. "Please take Meg with you to your social events. You are a good role model for her," she paused and her eyes searched my face. "You are a lovely young lady, Christine, I hope you know what you are doing?"

Was she eluding to Erik now? "What can one do but follow their heart?"

The smile returned slightly. "Good luck as Carlotta's understudy, she is a beast," and she turned away to reenter the theater.

I took a deep breath, glad that it had been an easy conversation. No prying questions about loving my phantom. As I approached the theater I could hear loud boisterous speech and knew it was Carlotta. Probably stirring more discontent into the crew...

I entered and the whole theater fell into a hush. Everyone looked away from me and pretended interest in their shoes or the person beside them and I searched for Meg in the crowd. She was seething and she stormed past Carlotta, calling her a vicious French word that I didn't know and Carlotta laughed and said something about rats smelling bad when they get hot.

Meg grabbed my arm and turned me around, "Let's go," she ground out.

"What was that all about?" I asked when we got to the hall.

"She is telling everyone that you made up being engaged."

"What?"

"That this Erik Karan person is fictional and the man that came in was hired by you."

"What?" I could barely believe I was hearing this.

"She said you slept with the managers to get the contract and offered to sleep with Piangi..."

"WHAT?"

"And when I tried to defend you she said that I should shut my mouth and learn my place! OH that woman!" Meg was infuriated and I was shocked into silence, trying not to cry, as we came to my room. Meg was enjoying her anger though and was still raging as we came through the door.

"I wish I could get her back, really good, embarrass her in front of everyone..."

"Ladies," we both jumped and turned and finally saw that Erik was in my room, leaning on the far wall in the dim light.

"Hello fictional man," Meg grumbled and flopped dramatically onto my bed as I moved to hug him.

He cupped my chin and planted a soft lingering kiss to my lips before asking why I was almost crying and why Meg was almost steaming.

"Carlotta," Meg growled out and Erik's eyes sharpened.

"What has La Vache done now?"

Meg proceeded to go into great detail and, I'm sure, embellishing some parts but I couldn't say as I had not been present for Carlotta's deconstruction of my reputation. Not that the reputation of a dancer was anything remarkable. I wished I could offer some relief on the subject because Erik was beginning to look very mad, but when asked what the managers had to say to me I only had more negative things to add. I handed over the schedule that they'd spoken to me about.

"She doesn't want us at rehearsal at the same time, which is ridiculous because if she's not there then I'm her! But if she's the lead then I still get to be something, somewhere but how am I supposed to practice that part if I'm being her when she's not there!" I myself flopped onto the bed feeling like there was nothing I could do about anything. And judging from the way Erik and Meg were pouring over the schedule I figured they would probably be better at fixing things.

"This is crazy!" Meg blurted finally. "She wants every friday and saturday but that's when the patrons come! You won't get any support if you're never at those rehearsals! People will think you've disappeared."

"It's probably what she wants," I sighed wondering if this was the end of my singing career.

"Oh, I hate her!" Meg exploded. "She is such a witch! How dare she start picking on the one nice normal person to ever come here! And now she's picking on you!" she pointed dramatically at Erik. "She doesn't even know you DO exist! I know you exist, I know..."

"Meghan," Erik spoke calmly and touched Meg gently on the shoulder. She twitched and her mouth clamped shut as her eyes dropped to the floor. "There is no need for such dramatics," Erik sounded very at ease for looking so angry only moments ago.

"We can't let her win..." Meg whispered to the ground.

"I have no intention of leaving this as it is but I have to arrange a few things first." I could practically see the ideas flying through Erik's eyes. "I will deal with this," he raised Meg's chin so she would look at him. "I do not want you to speak to Carlotta or anyone else regarding this matter." His voice was very harsh and commanding and reminded me of my instructor as Meg nodded with wide eyes. When was the last time I had a lesson? Maybe I should be thinking of that too, along with my shortened rehearsal time...

"Christine," Erik spoke to gain my attention and I looked at him expectantly. "Do not speak to Carlotta, no matter what she says about you and I, she is a spiteful woman and there is no need to feed her rumors by having you try to defend us. I want you to ignore her completely. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Erik," I nodded seriously, though I didn't know why I had to ignore her completely, not that it really mattered since I would not be rehearsing with her any time soon. She was never nice to me anyway.

Erik suddenly was looking straight into my eyes, kneeling before me, "You do _not_ sing like a dying sparrow," he said very seriously and I had to laugh. I leaned forward and kissed him lightly and Meg made gagging noises.

"You two are going to make me sick," Erik stood quickly.

"You two," he emphasized, "Need to get ready for tonight." He pulled out his watch and checked the time. "I will return in fourty five minutes to take you to the carriage."

Erik left through the door and Meg choose one of my new dresses to wear. She was worried it wouldn't fit her across her chest but all that happened when we tightened it is her chest rose a few inches.

"I hope Mr. Lauzier is worth this, I can barely breathe!" she complained as I tightened the back.

That set an omen for the rest of the evening because in Meg's eyes, it was definitely not worth it. He was a good looking nice enough man who was very polite and genuine but he was far more interested in speaking to Erik then he was to either one of us. As far as I could ascertain, Erik had built a house for him, the very home we were in, a year and a bit ago and he had been dying to meet him since then. He went on about the magnificent architecture and the astounding amenities that Erik had provided and why he never accepted his invitation before and why now and on and on until I thought Meg was going to fall asleep in her seat. He did speak to us briefly about the opera and what we thought of the new production being worked on and Meg fairly glowed at the attention as short as it was. I wasn't feeling very well and didn't mind not being spoken to but Meg had a scowl on her face due to the amount of attention she was getting.

Erik himself was not impressed with the amount of attention either. My fiancee wasn't the sort of man who liked to speak about himself. He preferred broader topics and I could only assume it was because his past was none too pleasant to think about, let alone share with others.

By the end of the evening, as we three rested in the carriage on the way back to the opera, I was dealing with two very agitated people. Erik sat ramrod straight staring out a tiny slit in the curtain, his brow furrowed and his eyes distant. Meg was slumped down with her arms crossed muttering darkly about missing out on the one interesting sounding man because of her mother's doing. There were some words I'd never heard used before in French and assumed they were bad words.

I touched Erik lightly on the knee and his eyes flicked to mine and Meg suddenly sat up.

"Erik, you simply must set up another night with Count Inninbalm," her eyes were pleading as Erik's furrowed countenance shifted to her begging blue stare.

"Why?" he asked simply, his expression forcing a reason to be spoken.

"He is actually interested in a wife! These other men don't know what they're looking for," her hands waved in erratic circles. "Fate would conspire to keep the one perfect man away from me! You have to help me!"

Erik looked at me in confusion, "Is she making any sense to you?"

I fought not to laugh at Meg and her outlandish ways. "I think she would very much like to meet Cameron," I managed to keep my smile small.

"Even his name is perfect," Meg sighed and slumped back down while Erik's gaze narrowed on her.

"He is by no means perfect, Meghan," Erik's voice had an edge to it and I found my eyes searching his face for some sign of his feelings for my best friend. It was terrible to think he could be jealous but what else could I think? Why would he wish to point out Cameron's illness and make him seem any less a good man then the man tonight who had no interest in Meg whatso ever.

"He is lovely, Erik," I came to Cameron's defense and my lover looked at me with a strange unreadable expression. I suddenly realized my choice of words and my face paled. "He is a lovely person, he has a good heart..." I stopped my stuttering tongue and Meg piped up.

"And he is a musician! He sounds wonderful, Erik, will you please introduce us?"

Erik told Meghan he might and then continued to stare out the window, his posture saying very clearly, do not touch me. I cursed my unthinking stupid tongue and slumped into my chair. Meg was grumbling again about a wasted night with a man who loved other men and I closed my eyes, intent to forget them both, if only for a moment.

---

Erik

---

'He is lovely,' her sweet voice rang in my ears. Even with my fake fleshy cheek I was not lovely.

Monster, my mother cried out

Corpse, the people taunted.

Deathbringer, the crowd cheered.

Murderer, Antoinette flung at me.

I shuddered and closed my eyes. I was losing my mind...hearing voices again...

I remembered Christine naked in my bed last night, running her hands over my body and for some reason that focused my thoughts. Perhaps it was because Meg was here so there would be no consorting until I had my lover below in my home. Or perhaps it was because when Christine touched me I felt like a man. Or maybe a God.

So Meg wanted to meet Cameron? I had a feeling Christine had not told her of his ailment. But what did I care if Meg wanted to meet him? And what did I care if she cared about his wheel chair? I began massaging my temples and suddenly Christine was sliding beside me.

"I can massage your shoulders," she offered and then began gently pressing her searching fingers into the tight spots as she'd done before. "I read how to do this but I think one must practice to become good at anything."

"Hmm mmm," I responded as I felt some tension loosen and unravel down my spine.

"Speaking of practice I suppose we should be continuing with my singing lessons, I don't want to give Carlotta any more reason to complain to the managers..." her voice began to fade in my ears. Her hands were sending warm spirals of heat through my body, whether from arousal or lost tension or just the knowledge that those were my angel's wandering hands on my body, the effect on my budding headache was astounding.

"That feels good..." I practically drooled and Meg commented.

"You should try it naked with warmed oil."

Christine froze and I looked at Meg, more than a little shocked. Meg's face flushed a deep pink color and she looked away with a mumbled apology. Christine took her hands from my shoulders and instead held one of my hands tightly all the way back to the Opera Garnier.

We dropped Meg off at her room and I left Christine at her door for show and then disappeared into my tunnels. I waited for a few minutes just inside the tunnel to allow my eyes to adjust. The rubber mask was itchy tonight because I'd ended up gluing it over the torn, healing skin. The solvent was probably going to burn when it was time to remove it but sometimes I found I enjoyed inflicting pain upon myself.

I moved to the mirror and fetched my love from her dressing room. We walked quickly through the dark passageways and made our way to my underground home.

As she removed her cloak I slid up behind her to nuzzle the inviting curve of her neck.

"Will you bathe with me tonight?" I asked in a low purr and her body arched, her hands reaching back to caress my hips.

"Yes," she whispered quietly and I licked her neck from the edge of her dress to her ear.

"Good," I breathed in her ear, "I want to touch your wet naked body and feel your legs spread to welcome my hand..."

"Erik..." she gasped pulling away as her cheeks flamed. "You're not supposed to...speak like that..." her golden eyes rose to mine with embarrassment and I couldn't help smiling slowly at her.

"So I may do those things to you but not speak of them, oh Christine...that is so...I love you so much..." I covered her mouth roughly and groaned as I felt her soft tongue beg entrance. We kissed each other with total abandon, pulling at clothing and stumbling into my bedroom with very little grace between the two of us. When we fell onto the bed I had one shoe on and no jacket and Christine's dress was partially undone and falling off one shoulder. All in all, it was not a very good job of anything and I rolled off of her with a breathy laugh to run my hands through my hair and gather my wits.

"Would you like something to drink?" I offered as I moved to start my fire. She said she would boil some water for us and with a rustle of her skirts, rose from the bed and left my room. I sighed in disappointment and kicked off my other shoe. I wanted her with this ravenous unthinking malestorm of need that I often didn't care particularly if we had sex with or without clothing on, before or after bathing, even during could work, in her dressing room on the floor, on a table, in one of the tunnels or up against the pillar in the garden at Nadir's house. I would take her anywhere and at anytime. If she had continued massaging my shoulders in the carriage I might have fallen on her, regardless of Meg's presence. I felt like I had no restraint where she was concerned, though she prided me with it, but then I did manage not to ravish her in front of anyone yet.

Part of me wanted to have some feedback from an outside source on sex and this burning desire to fuck her at every waking moment. Who could I even begin to ask something like that? Excuse me, is it normal to wish to tie up your lover on your bed so that any moment you want her, she will be there?

I groaned and rubbed my hand over the itchy mask and moved into the washroom to remove the stupid thing. I poured the solvent down from the top of my cheek, under the rubber and felt it burn.

I gritted my teeth and let it do it's work for a minute.

Even more things had happened today to make my life even more complicated. I just wanted one day to go by where something got easier instead to harder. Just one day...

I slowly peeled the mask off, thinking of Christine and how upset it would make her if I tore my skin again. It came off with the skin that had been trying to heal and I touched my missing cheek to feel the slow seeping blood. I rolled my eyes at the sight of my blood. Now even my skin was weak. Lovely...

I snarled at the word and began undoing my ascot. Well, I was not lovely. Not one bit. But then Christine still loved me, did she not? She wore my ring with pride and she was here with me, was she not? Thinking of that, where was she...

If she was hiding from me again...

I left my room, after stripping down to just my trousers, in search of my lover.


	45. Helpless

---

Christine

---

I paced my wash room not knowing what to do. Now at least I knew why I felt so off at dinner.

Just go out and tell him, silly girl!

My cheeks burned at the thought of voicing this new obstacle of mine and I covered my face in frustration.

You are a grown woman. You have been dealing with your monthly cycles for years now. Telling your soon to be husband that you can not lay with him because of it should be easy. Just go out and tell him. At least you are not pregnant.

I heard soft knocking at the outer door to my room.

"Christine?" he called out and then opened the door.

"I'm in here," I called from the other side of the closed bathroom door. Maybe I could just tell him with a door between us and then I would not have to look at him as I spoke of such delicate things. I did not find it funny at all that I so recently scolded him for this and now would have to duplicate it.

"Are you alright, pet?" he asked worriedly from the other side and I could imagine him touching the door gently.

"I suppose..." I pouted, upset that I couldn't bathe with him and stay with him tonight, or for a few nights, and I was embarrassed by how upset I actually was.

"What do you mean? Christine, let me come in!"

"No, I can't!" I leaned against the door, seized by embarrassment.

"Christine..." he was growling my name and I knew I was angering him. My pulse sped at the thought of him breaking down this door to get to me.

"I'm fine, Erik. Please don't worry. I just...I can't come out." Why did I say that?

"Please tell me what is wrong?" he was trying to stay calm, I could hear it in his controlled speech.

"Nothing is wrong, except that I'm not fit to be seen for a few days," and are you planning to stay in here the whole time?

"Christine..." he was losing patience as I lost my mind apparently.

"I won't come out! I cannot bathe with you and I cannot sleep with you! I can't do anything!"

Silence greeted my outburst and I slid down the door to sit in a crumpled heap. My stomach was hurting sharply now and I wanted to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers.

"Please ma chardonnerette," he begged softly, his voice whispering through my head, "You are killing me..."

I huffed loudly and stood to wrench open the door. Erik was kneeling there half naked with the most desperate look on his bare face and I immediately felt a hundred times more foolish.

"I'm fine! See!" I waved my hands around and turned a circle for him to see and he watched me with piercing eyes.

I started to close the door but he stood quickly and pushed it open and I scrambled back holding up my hands to keep him back.

"I can't..." I panicked and he stopped.

"What is it that you think I will force you to do?" his brow furrowed at me.

My mouth opened and closed ridiculously and I finally just turned around and hugged myself so I would not have to look at him.

"It's not that you force me...you do not force me...I want to...I just can't..." I shook my head and tried again. "I'm sorry for this, Erik."

I waited almost a whole minute before he said "Why are you sorry?"

"I act so silly sometimes..."

His hands came down gently on my shoulders. He didn't pull me towards him or bend to kiss my neck as he liked to and it was probably because I was acting like some crazy person that he'd never seen before. I leaned my head back onto his chest and tried to act in a more intelligent manner. Maybe being crazy was part of the monthly cycles once you lost your virginity.

"I'm sorry for my outburst," I started softly as his hands trailed down my arms to hold me to him.

"All is forgiven."

I sighed and turned my face to press my cheek to his chest.

"You shouldn't forgive me so easily, I acted like a crazy woman."

He laughed gently and trailed fingers through my hair, "You did, but you forgive me for acting crazy every now and then, can I not give you the same courtesy?"

I laughed with him and relaxed into his arms, "Why do I always feel better when your arms are around me?"

"Because these arms were made to hold you," he whispered reverently.

"I love you Erik," tears welled in my eyes.

"And I love you, ma chardonnerette. Now do I get to find out what this was all about?" he was being very gentle with me but tears overflowed down my face anyway. They dropped on his arm and slid down his chest and he turned me to look in my eyes.

He was thoroughly confused and mystified, baffled by my behavior and tears spilled like my heart was breaking. I buried my face in his chest and he held me tight until I could mumble a few coherent words.

"Every month what?" he asked gently, combing his fingers through my curls, and I wanted to die on the spot.

"Once a month," I corrected, clearing my throat. I should think about this more positively. I wasn't pregnant. I still had Erik all to myself. Of course, growing his child within me was the one sure way to get him to marry me sooner. "Every woman menstruates," I said as succinctly as possible.

Erik stopped stroking my head and silence descended upon us. I didn't want to keep talking about sensitive subjects so I just listened to his heart beating and imagined I was in a warm bed with his arms around me.

"Do you...need anything?" he asked haltingly.

"No."

"Should I make you some tea?" he offered and I reluctantly released him since he seemed very uncomfortable.

"That would be nice," he left my room and I sighed heartily, not only for my less than spectacular behavior but because I now wasn't sure what he was thinking behind that stony mask of his.

---

Erik

---

I left her room with my teeth clamped to keep from clenching my fists. I walked straight to the shelves of books and pulled out three of my texts and took them to the kitchen, where I hurriedly made some tea to steep and then flipped the books open. I skimmed the sections of woman's cycles and menstruation until I sagged forward, burying my face in my arms.

I had rudimentary knowledge of woman's cycles and pregnancy and all that but after reading all the clinical terms and the complications that could occur, panic was rising within me. There was no way for me to keep her safe from this. I was not a God, no matter how she made me feel. I was only a pitiful man, an evil, dark, bitter man at that. I had no faith in anything except the girl in the next room, and she was currently bleeding internally. How could I stop internal bleeding? Was she in pain? The books spoke of different levels of pain and no real way to tell how bad or how long you would bleed for. Was this our end?

I stood angrily and tore the pages out of the books. Just as Christine felt there were things that should not be spoken aloud, this topic should not be written about. I dashed them into the fire and felt some satisfaction as the pages burned to ash. I quickly gathered the tea tray and fetched some oranges too since she liked them the other night. I rolled one plump one into my hand and a cold thought slid down my spine.

My dream was a warning. She would die. I would wake to find the bed soaked with her blood and her body cold and limp beside me...

Something was dripping from my hand and I looked down at the crushed orange. The sight of it's mangled corpse brought tears burning into my eyes and I threw it into the basin in disgust.

Get a grip! I braced my hands on the counter and took a few deep breaths.

She needs you to be strong. You are her man and her protector and need to be brave in the face of this unfortunate turn of events. If she is dying then you should be spending every waking second with her and not whimpering to yourself out here. I composed myself and carried the tray with trembling hands to her door. I peeked in and saw a telltale lump beneath her covers. Part of me wanted to ask what the hell she was doing in her bed when she belonged in mine but perhaps she would be more comfortable without me next to her.

But I could never leave her for the entire night.

I would need to check on her every few minutes.

It was a good thing I'd slept the last two nights in a row because I didn't think I'd be getting any sleep tonight.

I knocked lightly and entered as she sat up, pulling the covers into her lap. Her glorious curls were braided away and those large light filled eyes followed me.

"How do you feel?" I asked casually as I poured her a cup of tea.

"Not any different then I usually do when it happens. Can you put in extra sugar?" I stirred in an extra spoonful before handing her the cup. She wrapped her hands around it like she was cold and inhaled. "Thank you Erik, this is just what I need." She leaned against the pillow adorned headboard and smiled at me.

I think my smile wavered and I turned away to pour myself my own cup of tea though I doubted I would drink it. I sat in the padded chair by her bedside and balanced the cup on my knee while she took gentle sips of her tea.

"I'm sorry for acting so crazy," she broached the subject.

"I have already forgiven you."

"But I was...I am silly, Erik, you must have been worried for my sanity and my health," she laughed lightly and I felt my throat tighten. She was so beautiful. How could I be losing her so soon? How could there be nothing to do about it? Is this how she felt when I had my seizures? Did she feel this ragged hole open within her; this unimaginable helplessness in the face of nature? Her cheeks were lightly flushed and a tendril of hair had come loose from her braid and was elegantly curling over her brow. She glanced at me over the rim of her cup and her eyes glowed for a moment but her brow furrowed and she lowered her cup. "Erik…?"

Panic was clawing its way up my throat.

"What is it? Come here," she reached for me, beckoning to come forward with the wave of her hand. "Come closer," she rested her tea on the bed, holding it steady with one hand while the other patted the bed beside her, "Sit here."

I unfolded from the chair and put aside my tea and sat gingerly beside her. Her hand slid down my spine.

"Aren't you cold?" her hand spread as if to cover as much skin as possible and I shook my head, my eyes trained on her covered legs.

"No, not yet," how long would it take for her life's blood to pool below her. Would I even see it or would the blanket hide it from me? Would she slip away quietly and I would never know it was happening?

She leaned her head on my shoulder and sighed, "I should have known what was wrong with me earlier."

"Earlier?" my voice sounded choked.

"I didn't feel well at dinner."

"Why did you not say something?"

"It's not something you're supposed to talk about in the middle of dinner, but honestly, I wasn't thinking of it. I think I thought I was pregnant."

Pregnant. How much easier that would be! But no, not pregnant, just bleeding uncontrollably. She nuzzled closer to me and sniffed.

"You smell like oranges."

"I brought some," I managed to say.

"I'm cold," she sighed and my heart rate doubled as I put my arm woodenly around her to rub her arm briskly.

"My bedroom is warmer with the fire already burning," I was determined now that she would not sleep in here. Her last night on earth, she belonged in my bed.

"But you…I couldn't…you...you don't want…" she trailed off and stopped and I had to bite back a sigh. I could feel the panic still waiting on the edge but it took her a painfully long time to spit things out when she was embarrassed. I took a breath and pushed my panic aside.

"I thought we already had the discussion about honesty. Please Christine, just tell me what y_ou_ want. I will not be offended."

"Offended? Why…" she grunted and bent forward slightly. My grip on her tightened and I was about ready to throw her over my shoulder but she pushed away from me to put her arms around her stomach.

"What is happening?" if she asked me to leave, it was going to start a gigantic fight.

"Nothing, I just…need a moment…" she breathed evenly as she settled back on the headboard. I gave her a few moments and then asked.

"Is my bed uncomfortable?"

"What?"

"Is my bed uncomfortable?" I repeated.

"No." She looked confused.

"Then why are you in this one?" Her mouth worked silently.

"I thought...It was easier..." She would not meet my eye and I was grinding my teeth at her unwillingness to speak to me and explain herself.

"What do you mean easier?"

She sighed and closed her eyes and started rambling, "I wanted to sleep in your bed with you but I wanted to ask you first for permission because I know you don't really want me in your bed tonight, but you would endure it if I said it was what I wanted...."

"What are you talking about? Why would I not want…" I took a breath to keep from getting angry. "You are being silly again," I determined. "Of course I would want you in my bed."

"Are you sure?" she finally looked at me, the embarrassment easy to see on her face.

"I can not believe you are honestly asking me if I want you in my bed? I want you there every night for as long as I live, ma chardonnerette."

"But I might," she looked away, "I could…dirty your bed."

Was that her concern? "I have other sheets," I stood, decision made and scooped her tea to put it back on the tray. When I was ready I looked to her to start moving.

"You have to walk ahead of me and no looking back. Promise me Erik." I promised because I wanted to get her into my bed where for some reason I thought she would be safer but curiosity had me asking why I could not look as we left her room.

"I am wearing the most ridiculous bloomers under this nightgown and I don't want you to see them. You promised Erik!" she felt the need to remind me urgently and I felt a little lighter.

"I will eventually see them at some point, my dear."

"Not if I can help it…" she grumbled under her breath.

"Twelve times a year multiplied by the next thirty years of our lives is 360." I walked to her side of the bed where I'd left the small table and I could hear the covers rustle as she climbed in from my side. "Multiply that by the number of days each time and there are thousands of opportunities for me to see you in those bloomers."

"Well, not today," she affirmed and I glanced at her. There was something wholly erotic about her innocent braid and nightgown in my dark bed where we had recently made passionate love to one another. I pushed those thoughts away and handed her the tea.

"Thank you," she smiled. I felt the answering smile curve over my face. Having her in here did feel better.

"So..." I grabbed an orange and tossed it from one hand to the other as I walked around the bed. "May I join you?"

She folded back the blanket for me and her smile grew. "Always."

I settled next to her and began peeling the orange. I was having a tough time thinking of what to speak about first when all I wanted was to just fire my queries at her until my sanity and curiosity were sated. Either that or clutch her to my chest in a desperate attempt to keep her safe. I also knew we had to speak about being open with each other. If she even felt half as panicked over my illness as I did over her monthly courses then it was already too much panic and I had neglected to notice it. I needed to bring it all up and speak of it with her regardless of how embarrassed she got.

Take it slowly Erik.

I offered her half of the orange and we ate silently until she piped up.

"What did you think of Mr. Lauzier?" I couldn't help snorting.

"Stupid and annoying, but quite rich," she laughed.

"I thought he was very polite and you were only annoyed with him because he paid all his attention to you." She found this to be amusing so I gave her the eyebrow.

"Any man who would rather speak to me than to two beautiful girls is either stupid or blind or perhaps both," she sipped her tea quietly.

"What did you think of Count Inninbalm?"

"He is lovely, don't you agree?" I suppose I still felt slighted by her earlier comment. Her eyes flicked up in surprise but they immediately dropped to study her tea, as if trying to read her fortune in the leaves, only there were no leaves.

"He is a kind, warm person and I would like to introduce Meg to him. She needs to meet a better caliber of man."

"I will arrange it," I conceded.

"You will?"

"Is that not what you desire?"

"Well, yes...but you..."

"I wish to give you whatever it is that you desire. All you need do is ask, Christine, and I would give you the world..." she was staring at me, those hypnotic golden eyes glowing with the holy light of her soul. Her lips began to press and one side quirked up.

"Can I have a piece of your half instead?" her mouth stayed open, waiting for the deposit and I laughed softly and placed the wedge on her tongue. She chewed it with a smile watching me watch her and when she swallowed she leaned towards me with fluttering lashes. Like two opposing magnets I leaned to meet her mouth and our lips pressed in a sweet innocent kiss.

"I love you, Erik," she whispered across my lips and the flood of warm goodness swept through me. Tears stung my eyes as I remembered this could be our last night together.

"I love you, ma chardonnerette," I let my palm curve around her neck, the smooth line always begging to be caressed and her eyes panicked. I froze and then sat away from her.

She did not want me touching her.

She did not say so but I was pretty sure that she was afraid I would force her to lay with me. Not that I would ever force her; not that I needed to force her. She'd already confessed that when I touch her she loses control of herself and does shameful things. Disgusting, shameful things like loving a monstrous beast. Why else would a radiant angel ever debase her holy temple with my love?

Her lips were suddenly pressing kisses to my face, quickly moving to my mouth. She straddled me in one elegant move and swept her hands through my hair to pull our mouths together. I groaned and clutched her body to mine.

My songbird...

My angel...

My living inspiration...

Please God...let her live...let us live...

She came away for air but held our faces tight until she'd caught her breath enough to speak.

"I'm sorry..." why was she apologizing in a moment like this? "I can't..." she buried her face in my neck and her nervous breath was hot on my chest. My hands smoothed slowly over the curve of her back while she found her words. "I want you to know, just because I can't, does not mean I don't want to."

I repeated her words a few times to understand their meaning and when I did, I know I held her a little tighter.

"You want to...?" my throat was dry.

"Of course," she squeezed me back, "I always do, at least so far..."

"But you can't," I liked her vague terms far better then the graphically disturbing clinical ones but we did run the risk of having two different conversations.

"I can not," her voice was firm but her hands slowly slid from my chest down around my ribs to settle at the base of my spine where her nails grazed lightly. "I suppose I could..." her voice was very soft and her nails were biting into my skin now. "No," she pulled back horrified. "It's not proper," she looked so disturbed that I wanted to tell her I could make everything better for her.

"If we can't, then we shan't," I began coaxing her back towards me. I liked this position and I wanted to stay in it for awhile. Though it may make it harder to resist her...

"Easier said than done," she mumbled as she settled back into my embrace. She sighed heartily and snuggled into me, finding her most comfortable position as my hands took up their slow strokes down her spine.

I could go without sex for one night, couldn't I? Likely, it would be more than one night but I lived many years without, what was one or two more? The slim, flexible frame that was currently wrapped around me was willing and somewhat wanting...that could make it much _harder_...difficult. That could make it more difficult.

"How do you feel?" I asked gently to change my train of thought.

"Alright."

"Everything is...alright...I mean...normal...I mean...as it was...other times...that you've felt this way..." well that was painful. Perhaps I had her same issue with speaking of uncomfortable things.

"I feel like my stomach hurts but it was probably the rich food that Mr. Lauzier had served. I'm not used to such things."

I swallowed hard as I made a meditative sound. Her stomach hurt. A sign of hemorrhage.

"Are you tired?" my voice sounded very strained.

"Not really, but I am _very_ comfortable," she squeezed me with her arms and legs and head as if to say 'here I am, wrapped around you, if you didn't notice my body here'. "I am a little cold," she shivered for effect and I slid the blanket out from under her and tugged it up over her back.

We settled back into our snug position, now securely cocooned, only our heads popping out the top. I held her close and cherished the breath that moved her chest upon me, the life that beat within her.

"Mmm," she shifted happily, "Usually my back hurts more but not right now..."

"That's good," I forced some cheerfulness into my voice and tried to think positive. Was she not always advocating positivity? She's been through this dozens of times, trust her to know when something is not right. Of course would she even mention it if it is not within societies dictate to speak of such things? "Does this help?" I rubbed her back a little firmer, pressing my fingertips into her flesh as she'd done to my shoulders and she made an erotic noise.

"More," she begged with a moan and I massaged her lower back for her while she made appreciative sounds on my neck. I couldn't help becoming aroused and as she shifted her position she rubbed against me enough to make my hips jerk.

"Erik..." she pushed back panting lightly and I wanted to tear the clothes from her body.

I would not...

I WOULD NOT!

I pulled her to me in a death grip but managed to stop there. I had to let her be the one to do anything. Tell me to let go or press her lips on mine...

Whatever the choice, it would be hers to make. Whatever she wanted I would give...

---

Christine

---

I held him so tight that I was sure he was not breathing. His arousal was very evident between the press of our bodies, but he only held me, as if afraid to let go or move. Eventually our grips loosened and he sighed almost in disappointment as I took his face in my hands.

"Maybe I should sleep in my bedroom..." I started and he reacted quickly.

"No," he pulled me to his chest. "You are right where you should be."

I had to laugh, "Would that be in your bed, in your lap or in your arms?"

He cuddled me like I was a security blanket, "All of the above."

"Erik," I laughed again, "I'm making you...uncomfortable..."

"Nonsense," he whispered, "I want you here, Christine."

I could feel his tension at the thought of me leaving his bed and I smiled to calm him. "I want to be here."

Our comforting embrace only lasted a few minutes because I suddenly was very uncomfortable.

"I need to lay down," I informed him as I disengaged from our snug little bundle. I could feel him moving beside me as his hands hovered close to me.

"Can I still hold you?" his voice sounded hesitant but my stomach was cramping and I couldn't deal with Erik right now.

"Let me stretch out for a few minutes," I closed my eyes and did just that. I left him to his own devices and could practically feel his eyes boring into me. Each second that passed seemed to heighten the tension in his body and I finally could not leave him any longer.

I rolled and slid one hand over his waist and curled beside him.

"Feel better?" he was strained.

"Mmm hmmm."

"May I ask you something?"

"Mmm hmmm?"

"Do you worry about my illness?" I pushed up from our cuddle so I could look him in the eye.

"Of course I do," I was hurt that he would even have to ask.

"I don't want you to."

"Well, I'm going to anyway."

"I don't want you to worry."

I was getting irritated with him, "You can't stop me from worrying, Erik. We don't know how to stop the seizures and only have your best guesses as to why they happen and how to keep them from happening. You could have one while you're rowing across the lake and fall in and drown. You could have one in a random tunnel on your way to get me from rehearsal and I'll be left waiting for you and wondering if you're alright. You could hit your head during one or wake up and not remember me at all..."

"That is impossible."

"Is it?" I started panicking now that I was letting myself think these things. "How do you even know? Have you read somewhere that it is impossible? Can you say for certain that the seizures won't happen again? Or if they do that we'll be prepared for the outcome?"

He stared at me. Those magnificent stormy eyes, apologetic and sad.

"I only brought it up because...because...I'm worried."

My brow furrowed, "Worried that I'll be left alone?"

"No!" Anger flashed into his eyes, "Worried that you would leave questions unasked and things unsaid for fear of causing discomfort or embarrassment. We should not be worried about the dictates of society when it is only you and I. Anything that must be spoken about, no matter how uncomfortable, should be spoken. We can not afford to play about with double meanings and hide behind so-called proper behavior."

We stared at each other in silence. He was right but I still found it hard to imagine piping up in the middle of dinner that my stomach hurt. I looked down at my hands and the ring on my finger sparkled gaily at me. I was to be this man's wife, I had to honour his decisions and abide by his dictates, not society's.

"It is just me, ma chardonnerette," he whispered, further solidifying what I knew to be true. "Next time you feel unwell, I want you to tell me..."

"Not in front of a stranger..." that part still bothered me.

"Perhaps no, but you could have pulled me aside or told me in the carriage..."

"You were already upset..." I tried to defend myself.

"So, for fear of causing me discomfort, you refrained from telling me you felt ill?"

"You make it sound as if I am at fault for trying to think of you..."

"What good are well placed thoughts if you are dying and hiding it from me?" I made an exasperated noise.

"I'm not dying Erik..."

"And are you certain about that? Did you read it somewhere that it was impossible to die from menstruation?" he threw my words back at me and I was stunned. I sat with an open mouth and Erik continued.

"Next time you feel ill, please inform me. I care little for how Mr. Lauzier or any other would take our immediate departure."

I closed my mouth gently and dropped my eyes again.

"You are right, Erik. I would be so angry with you if I found out you were not taking your laudanum and getting proper sleep..."

"I have been," he declared and I looked up shyly.

"I'm glad." We both smiled just a little at each other, the harsh words having done their job, we could move on now. "So, I have been thinking..."

Erik's hands moved over mine and he fingered my ring like he knew what I was going to say.

"...about our wedding."

"Oh, I made you an appointment at the tailor for next Friday. Meghan can go with you and I want you both to pick whatever you like."

"Oh, thank you, that's wonderful." Having my dress would certainly help my efforts to get married sooner. "But about the wedding date," I took a breath and spoke my mind as clearly as I could. "I do not want to wait until the summer. I want to marry you now."

He looked shocked but sort of pleased and he pulled me in. "Christine, do you take this man, to have and hold, from this day forward..."

"You can't marry us..." I giggled.

"Why not?" he joked and I pushed away to let him see I was serious. I didn't want to keep questioning my morality and my beliefs. I wanted to once again be a good person, clean and pure in the eyes of the lord. I wanted to be a happily married woman who passionately loved her husband. Not some strumpet who, unwed, shares her body with her secret lover.

"I want to marry you as soon as my dress is done." Erik sobered and searched my face.

"If that is what you want..."

"A hundred times yes, Erik! I want to be your wife."

"You only had to ask, my love."

"And so I have..."

I always enjoyed when a smile spread my lover's lips and one particularly joyful one curled one side of his mouth upwards for me to gaze at.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"Tell me..." I moved into his arms and they settled snugly around me.

"Too much..." we laughed and Erik shimmied our bodies down to the mattress where he rolled me to my back and played his fingers down my cheek. His face grew serious once more. "I want you to know that I will never love, as I have loved you. I was not meant to have this happiness, I was not meant to love but an angel fell at my feet and thawed my cold heart and accepted me as I am..."

"I'm not an angel," I interrupted shyly, "I'm just a girl."

"Not to me..." his face was hard to read. He was serious but he looked lost in thought and I cupped his face to gain his full attention.

"I know just how you feel..."

"Do you?" his eyebrow quirked.

"You are my everything."

"Yes..." he leaned down and kissed my forehead. "My everything..."

---

Erik

---

The bedroom was dark, the embers from the fire flickering softly with their last gleam of light. It had to be morning by now. I felt like I'd been lying in this bed for all of eternity, waiting for the end of night.

I felt stiff because I'd moved as little as possible so as not to disturb Christine's sleep. She'd rolled away from me at least two hours ago to curl onto her other side and though I desperately wanted to pull her back to me, I resisted the urge.

I didn't miss the annoyed look on her face when I'd hovered over her stretched out body and I didn't want her to push me away in irritation. My own fears and insecurities were driving me to smother her but all I could think of was the tangible quality of my horrible dream and all the pieces necessary to fulfill that dream had fallen into place.

I tried to hear her breathing but I couldn't.

I swallowed with some difficulty and told myself to calm down. Rationally, I knew the dream was only that, but a small part of me was still afraid that she would be taken from me. Would God take her from me so soon? Did he need his angel back so desperately? Could we not at least have a few happy years together?

I'd spent much of the night speaking to God, even though past experience had shown me He was not there for me. I hoped He would listen because it concerned his angel. Why send her to me for only a few months? Taking her from me at this point was cruel. Why melt my heart only to break it? Was my pain really so amusing to Him?

Enough. The night had to be over. My heart tripped as I finally let my hands explore the bed for signs of blood. I couldn't feel anything telling without moving so I moved closer to her, exploring the sheets around her backside and hip.

There was no wetness, no horrid stench of death, and as my hand withdrew from beneath her, she sighed contentedly and shuffled her backside closer to me. Something inside me snapped completely.

"Erik..." her voice was bleary with sleep and I realized her hip was clasped in my rigid fingers. I released her and laid flat again, my insides screaming.

"Go to sleep, my love," my voice wavered fearfully and she turned to cuddle her body next to me, her leg draping over mine easily.

"Did you have a dream?"

"No...yes..." I couldn't stand it any longer. I turned and gathered her in my arms and buried my face in her neck as tears pressed to the surface. Just the scent of her skin was enough to tip me over the edge.

"Erik...?" she whispered sweetly, confused but willing to hold me tightly as I grappled for control and lost. My breath shuddered out of me and my whole back trembled in waves.

"Erik..." she tried to pull back, "Are you crying?"

"No..." I lied as tears leaked from my eyes.

She was whole and she was mine. We survived this night. God would give us time together...

"Yes, you are," one of her hands felt the wetness on my grotesque face and then combed through my hair to hold me to her bosom. "Why do you cry, love?"

"Because you are still here with me..."

"That should make you happy..."

"I am so happy, that I can not stop crying." I nuzzled my face into her chest as her fingers combed my hair and I gave myself over to the emotion. I cried tears of joy into her nightgown while I listened to her strong heart beat, her breasts soft on my deformed face. I thanked God over and over again for allowing her to stay with me and I swore that I would be a good man. I would be worthy of her love.

--------------

**Author's note: Happy New Year to all my readers! ! ! **

**If it's not too much trouble could you leave me a review?? I got pitifully few last chapter when I really needed the cheering up and I'm hoping this little reminder may spur a few more of you to say 'Hey, good chapter' or 'Hey, that was terrible, who wants to read about menstruation?' or 'Hey, how long winded can one author get?'**

**Are you wondering if Cameron will make another appearance? Are you wondering if Meg has designs on Erik? Are you wondering if Christine's wedding plans will go her way?**

**Those are all things you can talk about in a review!**

**Okay, I'll release you now. Have a terrific new year and I'll see you all in 2010!!**


	46. Contented

**Author's note: I'm not sure if I'm just in a good sorta mood from ALL the SUPER reviews I got but this next chapter is pretty fluffy. Fluffy like big white clouds or cotton candy or a whole bathtub full of cotton balls...**

**Enjoy!**

---

Christine

---

I held my lover to my bosom as he cried tears of joy. I could feel they were not sad or bitter tears, I could feel it in the way he held me and the way he nuzzled his face to my chest; the way his hands cherished my form and the happy sighs that interspersed the shuddering breaths. Whatever horrid dream he'd endured was washed away once more by my presence.

I played my fingers through his hair, lingering at the feel of the soft strands and hoped that some burdens of weight would be lifted from my beloved's shoulders. He was far too tense the majority of the time and I hoped I was finally breaking down the fortress walls by showing him daily that I was not going anywhere.

His comment about me still being here with him had confused me a little. Where did he think I would go? Back to my cold bed? Whatever for? Everything I loved and desired was right here...

I squeezed him tighter to me and he returned the gesture.

"I love you," he breathed, finally quieting and pulling back to look up at me, love burning like fire in his eyes. Love and perhaps faith...

"I love you," a smile stretched across my face. His fingertips grazed my mouth solemnly.

"I love your smile..."

"Good," I wiggled closer, "Get used to seeing a lot of them..."

"Your smiles?" his lips quirked as he rolled me on top of him, his favorite way to hold me when we woke. I nodded with a wide grin.

"You constantly make me smile, so you better not get tired of them," I was trying to keep things light so I could scoot away and tend to myself, if he would only hide under the blanket for me. I combed the hair out of his eyes so I could have an unobstructed view and those piercing grey eyes stole my breath as he gazed at me in total adoration. His hands rose to bracket my face.

"Any happiness that I own was given to me by you."

His endless romance and elegant hands were always my undoing, as well as his music, his voice, his intelligence, his body in motion, naked or otherwise, and judging from the hard length of him pressing to my stomach, I was equally his undoing.

I slid myself off of him and gathered the blanket to my chest.

"I hope that we can share a lifetime of happiness, Erik," his eyes burned into mine with longing and pent up desire.

"I share everything that I have with you. Everything that I am, is yours," his hands were skimming down my body and I squirmed further away. I needed to go but didn't want to make Erik upset or dismiss his romantic pledge. It deserved a kiss but I didn't want to get him even more excited by sharing my lips with him, though my lips yearned to caress his in a series of kisses, from gentle to not so gentle. I tried to do as he'd asked and be as candid as possible.

"You know it is the same for me, my heart, but...I need to go to the bathroom." I begged him to understand with my eyes and his fingers grazed my cheek lightly, his eyes assessing me before he rolled from bed.

"I will avert my attention this one time so you can hide your bloomers from me," his voice held laughter, and as he walked to his washroom to give me the privacy I needed, I couldn't help responding.

"Not just this one time, Erik!" he disappeared and I hopped from bed grumbling. "Even once we are married there is no way I'm letting you see me in these..."

"What was that pet?" he called.

"Nothing!" I shouted and sprang quickly from his room. I chose a dress for the day and quickly tended to my womanly ordeal. I wasn't sure what time it was and thought I'd been in my room perhaps twenty minutes when I emerged with my hair pinned from my face and a soft pink simple day dress on.

I checked the kitchen first because he usually got ready for the day in record time and there would be no point in checking his room first. The kitchen was empty but the crack in the wall, that was actually a door, was opened. I pulled open the door to his laboratory and called to him. He turned, looking very dapper in his tailored dress pants and partially undone dress shirt. His hair was mostly combed back, not his usual perfect style, but I liked the overall relaxed air about him.

"What are you doing?" I approached him easily, looking curiously at the gadget in his hands.

"Just wasting time," he tossed the jumble of wires and metal to the table.

"Wasting time? I thought you can never gain back time?" I teased him, smirking, as a smile curled his crooked lips. He held out a hand for me and pulled me against his hard body.

"Any time I cannot spend with you, I now consider a waste."

A thrill went through me but since I could not allow us to get carried away I tried to weigh what he'd said.

"That cannot be true, Erik. What of your work? And Nadir?"

He laughed and bent to my neck to let his lips linger there. I wanted so badly to melt into him but held back.

"Erik...?" did I have to remind him of my state?

"Yes pet...?" he murmured as he opened his lips and settled his hot mouth over the curve of my neck.

"Could you give me a singing lesson? It's been so long..." I trailed off as he licked a path to my ear.

"You taste so good..." he groaned lightly and pulled my earlobe into his mouth. Heat shot through me and I was cursing my monthly cycles, digging my nails into his hips when he pulled away to gaze at me.

He touched my cheek with one finger and drew a line down to my mouth where his eyes and his callused fingertip traced my open lips. I was completely aroused by him and frustrated he was doing this to me but his eyes flicked up to mine and the love burning in them made me forgive him instantly. I bit his fingertip lightly to gain his full attention and then let go to repeat my request.

"Lesson?"

"You want a lesson right now?" he sounded a little choked and I smiled in encouragement as I nodded vigorously. Not only did I want to keep learning and improving but anything at this point to distract me from wanting to wrap myself around Erik was a good idea. He led me to the piano and took me through my warm up. I did love to sing with the piano and was enjoying myself completely until we began to sing our practice pieces. His voice joined with mine through the soaring notes and the combination of our perfect harmony, his eyes closed in musical rapture and his body moving with the music as his fingers danced over the keys was doing nothing to tame the uncontrollable fire I felt for him. My throat tightened and I tried to push through it but he noticed right away and his eyes flicked open in disappointment, his hands stopping as I stopped singing.

"You are not relaxed," he pointed out.

"No, I am not," I agreed in annoyance.

He eyed me seriously for a moment, "Perhaps I can help. Begin again without accompaniment." He stood from the piano bench and walked behind me.

"Now?" I glanced at him and his face was stern, my instructor's face.

"Begin," he commanded and I did. I sang a few bars easily without his presence distracting me and wondered how he knew he was the cause of my tension. His hands suddenly slid over my shoulders sweeping my hair back and his fingers began massaging my shoulders. I faltered and he leaned close.

"Keep singing," he ordered in my ear and a shiver ran down my spine as I did as he told.

His fingers began drifting up my neck until he was massaging the tension from my jaw with small circular motions.

"Sing for me," he whispered in my ear and my body trembled weakly. His nimble fingers found the tension in my neck and jaw and whisked it away, allowing me to use the sensations he wrought through me and project them from my throat. My voice rounded into an unreal sound and I didn't have time to be surprised because his thumbs began deftly pressing my temples at the same time and my eyes fluttered closed as an angelic voice soared from my throat. The exultant instrument that rang from my throat was not mine. It sounded like an angel was singing in my head and when I reached the end I sang another song, knowing that if I stopped, the angel would also stop. The unreal beauty of the voice brought tears to my eyes and finally I was spent and had to end the beautiful duet.

His hands stilled as the last note died in my throat and then he quickly dropped his hands away. I acutely felt the loss of his touch and turned to put my mouth on his. My arms were flung around his neck and I could feel the tingling want for him rush through my belly. He held me back grasping my chin in his strong slender fingers.

"That was much better," he said, all business-like, and I squirmed to get closer.

"Thank you," I reached for his lips and he started to smile. Standing to his full height I would never reach his lips without a stool so I stopped trying for them and instead tried to just hug him.

"I thought you wanted a lesson?" he held me back with a laugh and I pinched him. He yelped playfully and it was enough to allow me to press our bodies together.

"That was before you touched my soul like that..." I nuzzled my face into his chest and he curled down to me.

"I was merely relieving the tension in your neck and jaw. I read that it could be helpful but never believed it until you massaged my shoulders the other night. I apologize if it aroused you but you sang beautifully just now...like an angel..." I tilted my face up to his and reached again for his lips. He turned his smooth cheek to me but I didn't care particularly where I was kissing him, as long as I was and I began pressing my wanting lips upon his face. "Christine..." he sounded weak and his hands were tightening around my waist. He groaned lightly as my tongue delved into his ear. "Christine..." he growled and took my arms from his neck to look down at me in disapproval. "Do you wish to continue your lesson or do you wish for me to ravish you completely?" his eyebrow arched in jest and I was not embarrassed.

"Ravish me?" I whispered so full of feelings for him that I would probably let him make love to me right now, regardless of my situation.

"My insatiable vixen..." he murmured before roughly covering my mouth with a hard press of his. He held my arms tightly as I struggled to hold him and finally gave up. Instead I concentrated on kissing him while he backed me up against the piano, the hard edge pressed into my back, his body pressed into me and I arched gleefully, moaning into his mouth. I felt the groan vibrate from his tongue onto mine and I was making noises to encourage him. Why didn't I let him kiss me earlier? It's not as if every kiss had to lead to the bed? Though right now it was all I could think of...

He pulled back abruptly and walked a few feet away, breathing erratically.

"Forgive me, love, I know....we cannot...." he dropped his face in his hands and I realized he had been thinking the same things as me. "Why do we even tempt ourselves? You know I cannot resist you..." he said quietly and I felt terrible. I stepped to him and folded my arms around his waist to rest my forehead on his bowed spine.

"I cannot resist you either," he had to know this? I was his wanton whore. Nothing could prevent or even diminish my longing for him.

He turned in my embrace and those torrid grey eyes reached out to my soul. I lifted one hand to caress his wounded cheek gently.

"Can we put it on account?" I asked hopefully and his eyes darkened as his lips pressed.

"Most definitely..." he skimmed my cheek with the back of his hand and then sighed. "Shall we continue your lesson?"

"I don't know if I feel like it anymore..."

"Come now," he encouraged, "You must learn to sing even when you do not feel like it." He moved to the piano. "Your voice must still ring true even when your heart is not fully engaged. There will be nights when singing for the crowds is the last thing you want to do."

"I don't think I can sing any better than you just got me to." I tried to convince him I didn't need more lesson. He was unconvinced.

"I want you to imagine my hands on you while you sing," his hands rose to the keys and I sighed.

"Where?" I scoffed quietly, trying not to roll my eyes. I expected him to begin playing and not stop to answer me but stop he did, his hands lowering back to his lap.

"On your neck, massaging the tension from your jaw and touching your face delicately. On your back and in your hair and then trailing over the hardened peaks of your breasts..."

"Erik!" I gasped, covering my chest even though I was wearing clothing.

"Over the sweet curve of your ass cheeks..."

"Stop it!" I laughed, blushing and moving to cover his mouth.

"And parting the dewy flesh of your..." I clapped my hand over his mouth and scowled as best I could at his twinkling eyes.

"That is not very professional, Maestro." The very hands he had just been speaking of wormed their way around me and pulled me into his lap.

"I was not aware that I was supposed to be acting professional, do forgive me?" he nuzzled my neck and I couldn't help giggling at his playful teasing. "I think I could easily play around you," his hands lighted upon the keys and skipped a cheerful melody before fading away and slipping back around me. I relaxed into him and rested my head on his shoulder. I felt tired and sore from my body's goings on. I felt like just curling up with a book in front of the fire. I did not feel like going to rehearsal today and said as much.

"Well, you are technically not supposed to be there so I think you could refrain from going today," he kissed my forehead indulgently.

"Do you have work to do?" I asked wondering if he would just hover over me all day.

"Only some and it can wait...are you hungry?"

"A little..." we moved to the kitchen and he made some tea while I made the porridge. With breakfast taken care of, the rest of the day opened before us and we wasted it away in lazy splendor. We sat by the fire and spoke of music and books and Erik read the next chapter of Robinson Crusoe to me. We read each other poetry from a very old looking book and he told me a strange story about a wooden puppet. He liked to make me laugh and I think he spun his story even wilder for me but I ended up laughing so often that my sides ached with joy.

Erik tended to me like he was my personal servant. Anything I possibly needed or mentioned he was up in a flash and had it set at my feet. Part of me was bothered by his built in servitude but anytime I thought of mentioning that he needn't wait on me, that I was not an invalid, he was there gazing at me with that deep burning love. Like the sight of me sustained him. Just looking at him while he gazed at me made a silly smile plaster itself on my face and we often were drawn into an intimate embrace only to recall we must stop.

I pouted after one such encounter and he traced my jutting lower lip with his thumb.

"If you continue to pout in this manner I may have to spank you."

"Erik," I laughed, not taking him seriously until I noticed the very serious perusal of my rear end. I shook my finger at him, "You are being naughty again..."

"And are you complaining about it? Because that could warrant another spanking..."

"Didn't you have work to do?" I asked, as I moved to reclaim my seat by the fire and cover my bottom. He picked me up before I was halfway down and I stiffened in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"It is time to go speak to the managers and you need to change your dress."

"Already?" I relaxed and let my hand caress his neck, "We were having such fun..."

"Mphfftt...not as much as we could be..."

"Is that a complaint?" I asked quickly. "Do you require a spanking yourself? I would be happy to administer one."

"Spankings are for women only," his eyes brewed playfully at me as he put me down by my powder table and then went to the closet to pick out a dress. I watched his reflection in the mirror as he flipped through the hangers, wondering if he really wanted to spank my bottom. Meg and Julie had spoken about men enjoying such things. My eyes wandered to my own reflection and I thought I looked nice enough in the pink dress.

"Why do I have to change?"

"That dress is too plain. When you walk in you need to capture their attention." He pulled out the green butterfly dress and laid it out. My lips pressed as he continued, "This dress will definitely work. Then when they are staring at your...beauty, you can ask for exactly what you want and they will most likely concede. I know I would," he finished with a small lopsided grin and I tsked at him and sat to fix my hair.

"What am I to ask for? My own days to rehearse free of Carlotta?"

"To be forever free of that woman would be ideal but that would only be possible...if..." he trailed off and I glanced at him to see the furrowed thoughts on his face. He was staring at nothing as myriad ideas flew through his eyes.

"Erik?" he started and met my eyes.

"Yes?"

"You were saying?" he looked confused for a second and then laughed shortly.

"Forgive me, I had a marvelous idea..."

"Of what to say to the managers?"

He smiled slowly with a glimmer in his eyes, "Precisely what to say..." he quickly retrieved gloves and a complimentary shawl. "Put your hair up," he ordered and then hurried from my room before I could get a straight answer from him. I sighed and started pinning up my hair. I suppose he would reveal his idea in time.

---

Erik

---

I had a spectacular idea.

Well, technically it was not my idea and I would require co-operation from other people but it was marvelous. The opera just needed new management.

I quickly changed my own clothing, dressing sharply to pay a visit to Count Inninbalm. He'd mentioned the desire to hear his music played and there was no better way to do that then to own an orchestra and a theater. Hopefully he would see me on such sort notice, hopefully he didn't have others over for dinner. Christine came out of her room looking every bit a brilliant diva in the flattering clothing.

"So, now you will give me anything I ask for?" she cheekily teased me as we donned our cloaks.

"You did not need to change outfits for me to give you everything," I reminded her as I flipped my fedora onto my head.

"But it helps, right?" she giggled and I gave her a look, suddenly remembering that this was one of the first dresses that she herself chose to wear. I might not have noticed its low neckline but she had to have when she put it on...

"Did you pick this one out to dazzle me?" I couldn't help sounding shocked and she smiled saucily.

"You seemed to need a little help noticing our feelings for one another..."

"Well, I'll be damned..." I murmured as I pulled her in for a lingering kiss. Her lips met mine smoothly and as we pulled back I realized I was not wearing any covering on my face. I touched my cheek, knowing it was too early to glue the rubber back in place, and then went in search of my old mask. I could barely believe I was so cavalier about my face and found that my mask had been carelessly tossed on the floor of my room. I gathered it quickly, pressing it into place with practiced ease. It felt stiff and unyielding on my face and I wondered if I was outgrowing the need of it.

We traveled up through the tunnels and came through the mirror to her room. There was a letter that had been slid under the door and she quickly opened and scanned it.

"Monsieur Renaux has cancelled. He says he had to leave Paris for immediate business and hopes to reschedule." She looked up at me with a smile. "The trial is over."

"Trial?" I arched my brow at her description even though I was trying not to jump about in excitement that something had gone our way. The last dinner, canceled.

"Meg will certainly be disappointed but we will reschedule, if only for her benefit..."

"Whatever you wish," I promised, though secretly I hoped she would forget to reschedule.

"So..." she prompted, turning to me with a businesslike air. "What should I say to the managers? Do you have my words planned out for me or can I say what I like?"

"What would you like to say to them?" I tested her.

"Well, first of all, that Carlotta is being rude. As a member of the cast I must be at rehearsals. What if something is changed one day and I am not made aware..." she shook her head, "There are so many reasons why I should be at every rehearsal, this is so stupid." She crossed her arms petulantly and my eyes wandered down. "If they want me to be the understudy then I should be studying under her! I don't care if she's mean to me, there is a reason she's famous and I want to learn all I can from her so I can reach her level of fame."

"You will surpass her."

Christine softened at my words, "Only because of my brilliant teacher..."

"Moi?" I touched my chest in mock surprise to get her to laugh.

"Oui, toi," she playfully tapped my nose before her eyes grew serious again. "Is there anything in particular you think I should say to them?"

"I think you can handle it." She looked at me with a furrowed brow.

"Then what idea had you springing from my room with haste?"

"I think I may start up another business..."

"Doing what?"

"Would you believe, manager for the Opera Garnier?"

Her mouth opened and closed and opened again. "Are you going to buy the opera?"

I shrugged, "We will see. I must speak to Count Inninbalm first."

"Cameron?"

I could not help that twinge of annoyed jealousy, "Do you know another Count Inninbalm?" But Christine was oblivious.

"Oh Erik," she grabbed my sleeve, "Please arrange another evening for Meg to attend with us. Please Erik."

"Did I not already agree that I would?"

"Thank you, my love," her eyes shone as she clapped her hands happily. "Now when I tell Meg the bad news," she gestured to the letter, "At least I will have something good to tell her too." Her joy was ridiculously infectious to me and my jealousy melted away.

"And tell her about the appointment at the tailor." I tucked a fallen curl behind her ear.

"Oh! Two good things! She will burst with excitement I think."

We smiled at each other for a moment and then I swept her into my arms for a lengthy goodbye. I left through the mirror and took the tunnels out the side of the opera house. From the alley I was able to hail a passing brougham without too much notice and make my way to the Inninbalm estate.

---

Christine

---

I took a few deep breaths before entering the theater. I decided to enter from the audience entrance since I technically was not here to rehearse. There were many patrons sitting in the seats and I thought that two of the men near the front were the managers. Carlotta and Piangi were on stage walking through one of the duets while M. Reyer helped one of the violinists. I started down the aisle.

I made it all of three steps when one of the patrons saw me and jumped up.

"Mlle Daae, what a pleasure you have come. I was so disappointed when I saw you were not on stage today." He kissed my gloved knuckles lightly and had to move aside for another man.

"Mlle Daae, you must put me out of my misery and tell me that your engagement announcement was a lie." He also kissed my knuckles but got bumped aside by yet another man.

"Mlle Daae, how lovely to see you. You are as beautiful as a golden butterfly." I tried not to laugh that he could not come up with something other than what was sewn all over my dress. I noticed a few more gentlemen making their way to me and now everyone on stage was turning to see what the commotion was. I saw Reyer nod and give a small smile towards me and Meg waved boisterously from the back of the stage while Carlotta looked fit to burst. The managers also turned to see what was happening and I tried to keep the situation calm.

"Please gentlemen," I held up my hands to hold them all back, for there were now seven men standing in front of me. "I am loathe to disrupt rehearsal. I am only here to speak to the management."

One arrogant man took my hand, "But rehearsal is not worth watching without you on that stage, Mademoiselle." He started to lead me down to the front and Carlotta glared at me. If looks could kill...

"Mlle Daae," M. Firmin stood to greet me but the man holding my hand would not relinquish it. I tried to tug my hand out of his but he held on.

"A moment please..."

I tried to relax and tell myself that Firmin was right here and so was M. Reyer and Meg was there on stage with her mother, along with another forty people, nothing bad could happen.

"We have all heard and read the announcement of your engagement but unfortunately not one of us has heard of your fiance. It leaves us wondering if it is not a ploy to peek our interest."

My mouth opened in shock. So now everyone, even strangers, were believing Carlotta's lies?

"Monsieur, I am wounded by your assumption," I finally snatched my hand back. "I am indeed engaged to a living breathing man."

"Then wherrre iz he!" Carlotta punctuated from the stage above me.

"He is working at the moment," I replied calmly and then turned to M. Firmin hoping to get out of here. "May I have a private moment of your time?"

"Mlle Daae?" one friendly looking young man called to me and it was built into me to never be rude.

"Yes?" I turned slightly, hiding my annoyance.

"Why are you not rehearsing with the rest of the cast? Are you not going to sing anymore?"

If Carlotta had kept her mouth shut I might have been more diplomatic but her attitude towards me made me give attitude back.

"I adore singing and will sing until the day I die, but I am not permitted to attend any rehearsals that you lovely gentlemen attend." With that, I turned to M. Firmin with a quiet, "Shall we?" and then walked past him out to the hall while the patrons all started throwing questions at whoever would answer. The other manager, who's name escapes me, stayed behind to field their queries and I tried not to smile at the commotion my one comment had caused.

I stopped a little ways down the hall because I didn't particularly want to be closed into an office with M. Firmin while wearing this suggestive dress.

"Forgive me for causing such commotion," I started with a tiny lie but he nodded like it did not matter. "I had no idea the patrons would react in such a manner." That at least was true.

"Neither did I..." he glanced towards the theater.

"I have given much thought to yours and Carlotta's requests and I must say that I think they are ridiculous."

"Ridicu...?"

"In order for me to truly be an integrated part of the cast it is imperative that I am at every rehearsal. But I need Carlotta to be at every rehearsal as well. It is important for the two of us to rehearse together. I fully understand that as a leading lady, she is used to being the only one in the spotlight but I am here now and it appears that your audience wants me here."

"I noticed..."

"And I hope that you as well want me here...?" he nodded a few times, "Good." I smiled encouragingly. "I do understand that Carlotta is a force to be reckoned with, so as a measure of good faith I am willing to forgo Saturday rehearsals and leave those for her to woo her following. Do you think that will appease her?"

M. Firmin seemed to be trying to find words and the other manager approached us quickly.

"Mlle Daae, you have captured the hearts of many..."

"I do apologize for causing such a stir."

"No apology necessary," he bowed over my hand and I thought this was going well.

"Have you sewn things up, Richard?" he clapped Firmin on the back.

"Which direction are we sewing in?" they shared a contemplative look and then Firmin looked back at me.

"Mademoiselle, give us some time to try to speak to Carlotta and make her see reason, we wish to keep you on here but...she can be very difficult."

I held back a sigh and nodded politely. "I am planning to attend rehearsal tomorrow," I warned them.

"Of course, you must keep up."

"Gentlemen," I nodded my head in departure and turned back to the theater. At the threshold I realized I really did not want to throw myself into that lion's den and I skirted around the theater and went to my room. Hopefully Meg would come see me when she was finished. I wanted to tell her the good and bad news I had to share. I wondered what she would say about my disruption and thought of all those men interested in me when they hardly knew me. And then I thought of their faces. They all seemed so soft looking, their perfectly smooth rounded cheeks were almost feminine. They all were so unreal to me, crowding around me to gain my attention and kiss my hand, to speak meaningless words in hopes of gaining something from me. I imagined what it would have been like if Erik had escorted me and could only imagine him scowling at every one of them to keep them back.

I brought my beloved's face to my mind and knew there was no feminine grace to his visage. He was everything that was masculine and hard and strong. I could not even imagine falling in love with any man with a whole smooth face. Not after laying eyes on the phantom. Not after watching the fire burn in his eyes day after day.

How I longed to be consumed by that fire...

I squirmed at my inappropriate thoughts and tried to bring something else to mind when knocking disturbed my naughty thoughts.

"Meg!" I squealed as she came bustling in and flopped onto my bed.

"How lucky you are that you don't have to dance anymore," she complained.

"But you love dancing," I reminded her.

"I know," she rolled over to look at me, "But some longer breaks would be nice. I don't need to do it everyday, every time. I know my parts. I know everyone's parts."

"Because you love dancing," I repeated helpfully and she rolled her eyes.

"So where's Erik tonight? Do I actually have some free time with you?"

"He's off to talk business with Count Inninbalm." That got her attention.

"Cameron?" she sat up quickly. "Do you think he will mention me?"

"Why would he?"

Her mouth turned down in a pout, "You don't think he will?"

"He's only gone to speak about business, though I did ask him to arrange another evening there." I laughed as she sprang up to hug me.

"Thank you thank you thank you Christine, as soon as you spoke of his musical ability I wanted to meet him. He's the only one of the bunch so far that has caught my attention and I haven't even met him," she laughed as she wandered to flip through the few dresses I kept up here.

"Well, there's one less in that bunch..." I told her about M. Renaux canceling dinner and she pouted but mention of a new dress perked her back up.

"He said I can pick anything?" she wanted to double check and I nodded.

"Anything." Her eyes took on a dreamy cast and she began twirling a loose strand of her hair.

"Why is he so nice to me?" she softly asked herself and I pretended not to hear as I told her about my meeting with the managers and what had been said. She regaled me with the debacle of today's rehearsal. Carlotta had been already upset when some of the patrons expressed interest in hearing the understudy practice and then my appearance had really set her off. Nothing had been accomplished after my entrance and she ended up having a fainting spell and a few patrons had helped her to her dressing room.

"I almost laughed my head off when you told everyone you were not permitted at rehearsal. That was so perfect. Carlotta looked like she had a mouthful of rotten fish!" Meg laughed heartily and it was hard not to laugh myself at her boisterous joy.

We finally calmed down and Meg's eyes wandered down my dress.

"I've never seen you wear something so provocative," she assessed the neckline and I felt my face warm. She is only sixteen and this is the role model you paint for her?

"It served a purpose," both times I've worn it but I did rise to grab my shawl.

Meg smirked, "I bet Erik loooves this dress."

My blush deepened and she hooted with laughter. "He does, doesn't he?" she snickered, "All men are the same. Show some cleavage, flash your ankles and they pant at your heels."

"He does not pant at my heels," I defended my fiancee as I wrapped the shawl around my upper body.

"No?" Meg looked surprised. "What are you doing wrong then? Tell me how you get his attention."

"No!" I frowned as I blushed hotter and Meg began pinching me playfully.

"Are you too shy? Too proper to talk about kissing and touching?" I tried to formulate the right thing to say but she continued. "Have you lain with him? Come on, Christine, tell me?"

"I will not," I crossed my arms in defiance and Meg singsonged.

"I might be able to teach you something," she wiggled her fingers in front of my face and my scowl softened. She did know more about massage then I did and probably knew more about men too. I bit my lip as I looked at her and she smiled at my change of face. She clapped her hands as she settled on the bed beside me.

"So, he does not pant?" she started with that and I laughed.

"Maybe once we really get into things..." I trailed off and Meg squealed.

"Christine! I am shocked! All this time I thought you were so proper and perfect..."

I rolled my eyes, "You and him both..."

"I never thought you would want lessons from me."

"Lessons for what?"

"On pleasuring a man," a wicked grin curved her lips and I hesitated.

"I don't need lessons, Meg..."

"Don't you want to know how to make him melt into your hands and beg for your attentions?" she wiggled her fingers again and I tried to sound like I knew what she was talking about.

"You did mention the warm oil and massage..."

"Yeah, but there are sooo many ways to tease a man to satisfaction..."

--------

**Author's note: Ha hah! What a way to end the chapter! I just wanted to thank you all for reading and reviewing last time. You truly made my day, week, and month! I wish I could update more often for all of you wonderful readers but I barely have any free time anymore. I do promise you that I WILL NOT abandon you and even when it feels like all hope is gone I'll find the time to carry on...gee am I in a silly mood or what??**

**Hope you enjoyed and we'll see you soon for chapter 47!!**


	47. Working

---

Erik

---

The sky was darkening and I was standing on Count Inninbalm's doorstep waiting for it to be answered. At least I used the bell this time.

The butler looked startled by my white mask but I was planning to glue the rubber mask on my face tomorrow and the skin was still trying to heal. He brought me to the empty sitting room and said the Count would be with me shortly.

Cameron came in after a few minutes and he smiled broadly and held out his hand for me to shake. Once the pleasantries were dealt with and he'd asked about Christine I told him I was here about business. His brow furrowed at me and he offered to take the conversation to a more private setting. I accepted and followed his chair down the hall to a large office.

It was richly outfitted and I sat in a plush armchair opposite him and we got down to business. I had things to get organized and Carlotta was throwing a wrench into my plans. She needed to be dealt with and Meg had unknowingly come up with the simplest plan yet. Buy the opera.

"So you need a partner?" Cameron was interested, I could tell by the glimmer in his eye. Owning an opera house would give him the opportunity to put his music on display, not to mention, make some effortless money.

"I do not have the people skills to be the face of the business, as it were."

"Your other mask is a little easier to handle, this one makes you look like a robber," he observed bluntly.

"That's what Christine said the first time she saw me," I shrugged slightly.

"So how would it be divided, how would decisions be made?" he was a good business man and we discussed the possibilities for almost an hour. He was open to his music being used but had a few misgivings.

"My name cannot be tied to the music," his face hardened imperceptibly when I suggested the fame this may bring him.

"If you prefer..."

"It is not what I prefer." He wheeled away from me abruptly, halting any conversation, and sat brooding, looking out the window. I wanted to ask what was bothering him but didn't want to pry. I hoped to be this man's friend and business partner but didn't want to risk being overly friendly too soon. I knew I would not take kindly to him asking prying questions of me so I remained silent and rose to help myself to a drink from his bar.

"Would you like something?" I offered when the glasses clinked together behind his back.

"Brandy," he said curtly and I brought him a brandy as if he were Nadir and I was waiting on him. I sat back down and sipped my drink waiting for him to sort his thoughts and he finally turned his chair back around.

"I can not bring such focus to my family's name."

I shrugged as if I didn't care but my curiosity was piqued.

"I would take the credit for your music but the musician in me balks at such an arrangement." Cameron's lips pressed as if he was trying not to laugh.

"Have you truly not wondered where my county is, if I am indeed a count?" he cocked his brow at me.

"None of my business, and besides, you clearly stated you were looking for a wife. Obviously no one in your county measured up?"

"That's not the entire reason that I am not there taking care of things." He waved at his legs and then sighed. "My county more or less disowned me until I gave proof of an heir."

"I see." Though I did not really see. First of all, he was still capable of...mating? And also how could his county disown...?

"When I began to show signs of losing my legs...well you can imagine. I am not "fit" to manage the estate that has been held by my family for generations. The priest on my land rallied the people to vote against me and here I am," his arms spread in self-depreciation, "Somewhat hale and hearty, but homeless..."

"So, your name..."

"Is not to be used," he said firmly. "I prefer to remain anonymous."

I pondered this turn in events. "So could you even help me purchase the opera house?"

"I have the money if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, with your family name. Could it be tied to the opera? Could it be printed in the paper that you purchased the opera house?"

He thought about that for a moment but then shrugged, "I don't think it would be an issue. I am here to find a wife and hopefully provide an heir to take over the county when I die. Why can I not make money while I'm here?"

I stayed silent as I chewed this over. "But you cannot write music to make money?"

His face hardened slightly, a less trained eye would have missed it, but I did not. "No," he said rather harshly, his eyes narrowing just enough for me to call it a glare.

I held up my hands, "Fine." I dropped that issue. There was obviously something about being a musician that was not alright with the Count never mind how well he played or how pleasant his music was or how much he obviously enjoyed creating it. "Are you willing to venture into business with me then?"

His face softened and a smile played with his lips. "I think it would be an adventure worth having."

We parted after that, with a promise to attend tomorrow's rehearsal together. He did want to see where his money would be going no matter that I was putting in half of it. I hurried back to the opera wondering how Christine's meeting with management had gone. I was pretty sure that they would still be beating around the bush not wanting to firmly travel in either direction but content to remain in the quagmire of indecision they had chosen. Idiots that they were.

I moved through the tunnels to the mirror but saw that Christine was not alone. Meg had the handle of a hair brush in her mouth and was mumbling around it while Christine nodded with wide eyes, listening intently as if she had no trouble understanding what Meg was saying. I turned away. Years of observing the dancers and being around Christine a lot lately had taught me girls were very silly sometimes.

I made my way to Box 5 to check for mail. I had neglected to check for any in a few days now and wondered if Bernard had written me a reply. There was a letter from him in the box asking to meet me tonight and I grumbled to myself about my lack of organization. I was letting Christine take over my world and my business would fall to the wayside if I wasn't more careful. Bernard wanted to meet in about an hour. I hadn't replied to his request but I often didn't so hopefully he would be waiting for me.

I quickly made my way to Christine's room to say adieu until later. I snuck into the hall from my tunnel and thanked my one lucky star that for all the times I'd been in and out of this entrance I had yet to be caught. As I slid down the hall to Christine's door a startled voice called out and I cursed my luck just as quickly as I had thanked it.

"Monsieur?" I kept moving, though tension sang up my back. "Excuse-moi, monsieur?" the dancer tried to get my attention so I spoke one very careful word over my shoulder. I not only threw the word 'Mademoiselle' into her ear but spun it to hold the dancer immobile for a second while I got out of her line of vision. It was perhaps juvenile of me to still not want someone to see me but if I was going to be taking a more visible role in the opera I really didn't want people to put two and two together and realize the new deformed manager could have been the opera ghost.

I slid around the corner and then peeked back to see the dancer shaking her head and touching her forehead before looking around her and then going back to her room. It was nice to know I still had the ability to hold people like that.

I made it to Christine's room and knocked before entering. The girls both looked surprised as I stepped in, Christine turned pink and Meg held something behind her back, the hairbrush presumably, but I did not have time to wonder. I only had time to explain I had to meet my head mason and say goodbye to my sweet angel.

"How long will you be?" she rose to take my hand and laced her fingers through mine.

"It will take a few hours to go over the plans. It will be late when I am finished," I skimmed her cheek lightly.

She looked over at Meg, "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Sure," Meg beamed, "Then we can finish our little chat."

Christine began to blush a most becoming color but before I could ask why, she tossed her arms around me. I returned the hug eagerly, more than a little disappointed that I would not have her next to me tonight, and Meg caught my eye with her expression. She looked to be holding back laughter.

"How is Count Inninbalm?" she queried mildly.

"He is as well as he can be," Christine pinched me and I pulled back about to ask what that was for.

"When will we see him again?" Christine interrupted with a pointed look that I did not understand.

"Next week sometime, though he will be at rehearsal with me tomorrow."

"He is coming?" Meg squealed as Christine said, "You are coming?"

"Yes, and yes," I answered with a furrowed brow because it seemed as if my angel was surprised I would appear.

"Wonderful," Meg clapped her hands and jumped up. "Christine, you have to help me do something with my hair. Nothing too extravagant but something nice, oh my goodness, I'm excited already."

While Meg prattled on I studied Christine's face and she noticed.

"What?" she asked quietly and though I had a few things to ask her I remained silent and merely shook my head. "Erik?" she was bothered by my silence but I said "not now" in Swedish and she sighed as I checked my watch. I had to go if I was going to be on time to meet Bernard.

"I suppose I will see you tomorrow," I touched my lover's cheek lightly in farewell and she smiled.

"It will seem like a lifetime."

"Blah," Meg pretended to heave. "You two are going to be the death of me. Death by sickening overt romantics....ugh." She turned to Christine's closet to look at her dresses and I assumed it was to allow us to say goodbye so I didn't waste the opportunity. I crushed Christine to my chest and kissed her lips.

I pulled back just as suddenly as I'd kissed her and watched her lashes flutter open, her lips curling in a sweet smile.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, ma chardonnerette, I will see you tomorrow."

I left the girls to their silliness, which I assumed continued after I left because as soon as the door closed Meg burst into gales of laughter and Christine tried to shush her unsuccessfully. I quickly retrieved the roll of plans from below and made my way to Bernard's home. We usually met in his kitchen since it had a private back entrance and a large, large table and usually his children were all safely tucked in bed at this hour.

When I arrived I was offered tea by his wife, which was her usual greeting before she left us to our work, but this time I actually accepted. I usually never accepted anything and she appeared startled, glancing at her husband while he shrugged and motioned for her to do it, but I pretended not to notice as I hung my cloak. It had been quite a few hours since the light dinner with Christine and my stomach wanted something in it. Bernard nodded his head in my direction and immediately began unrolling the documents. His wife left after placing my cup in front of me and placing a careful kiss on her husband's cheek. I could hear a child begin crying but after a few minutes it stopped. A child soothed by his mother's presence...

I sipped my tea and let Bernard pour over the plans. Perhaps twenty minutes had passed when he straightened and stretched.

"Marvelous, I have a few questions though." He always did. My plans were not exactly easy but he had gotten used to some of my tricks.

We went over the nuances of the latest home, discussing what could be changed if the customers wanted something different and what would have to remain for structural integrity. By midnight everything had been discussed and I was donning my hat once more.

"Erik..." Bernard hesitated as he rolled the plans back up. He was meeting with the customers on Monday with Nadir so it was a good thing I'd checked my mail today.

"Yes," I answered politely.

"Why did you not tell me Nadir was your father?"

"Is it important?" I couldn't help replying coldly. He shuffled the papers around a bit without looking at me.

"I suppose not...well....congratulations on your engagement. Will I ever meet your wife?" he looked up with a serious expression and I couldn't be cold about Christine.

"Perhaps..." I replied with my hand on the door thinking of her shining smile and how polite and gracious she would be if she met Bernard and his wife and their half a dozen children. "Perhaps I will bring her to meet your family," I said quietly. He didn't respond and I turned to look at him over my shoulder. He was stunned silent, his mouth hanging open, and I felt my anger stir. Was I really such a cur before Christine that now my behavior was that stunning? "Would there be a problem with that?"

"No," he shook his head a few times, coming back to life. "No, not at all, we would be happy to have you over...Emily would be delighted to meet her...she read all about her in the paper...wouldn't believe me when I realized who she was marrying...it had to be you, Nadir Karan and Erik Karan...I see the resemblance now but it didn't even occur to me with your different skin tones..." he was babbling so I put him out of his misery.

"Christine would be equally delighted to make acquaintance with your wife and children," I wondered if saying only she would be delighted made it seem as if I really would not be but I turned away, finished with this errant discussion. "Contact me if changes must be made. Bon soir."

I decided to walk back to the opera house. I had nothing to carry but the cloak on my back and no one to return to with haste so I walked in the dark night thinking so many things. This day had been...pleasant. The entire day wasted away with my loved one, talking and sharing and growing closer to one another. Just thinking about her made me want to go scoop her up from Meghan's room as soon as I got back but I slowed my quickened pace back down to a more comfortable gait. Seeing Cameron again had also been nice. He'd seemed genuinely happy to see me and is willing to give this enterprise of mine a go. Hopefully rehearsal tomorrow didn't change his mind.

Bernard and his wife in their kitchen after the children were all in bed had been different this time. I immediately wondered if Christine and I would ever have moments like those. Precious stolen moments...

I suddenly wanted to give her a child with an ache in my chest. There was time for that later though...a few years of married life and her triumph on stage and then we could slow down and hide away in our perfect home. If our child turned out to be deformed as I was, at least I knew Christine would love it. She would never treat a child as I had been treated and our home was going to be secluded...

A home I still had to plan out and start building. I should have brought those preliminary plans for Bernard to see and I cursed my unthinking state. It was entirely due to that darling angel of mine. She was making me blind to everything but her.

I grunted to myself about being a man and not allowing a woman to cloud my head so much. No matter that she was a radiant being I should still be capable of functioning to a certain extent. This was an ongoing problem of mine and I needed a solution that would actually work.

I neared the opera house and started up the stairs to the main entrance before laughing at myself and skirting around the building to the side. Were those doors even open to the public at this hour? I hoped not. If they were, that would change soon enough, barring any unforeseen trouble.

The opera house was technically not on the market for sale but I figured Firmin and Andre were greedy men. Money would solve any stickiness from their ends.

I started through the tunnels but hesitated to go below. I was a weak useless male specimen...

I slinked through the dark halls and let myself into Meg's room. Both girls were sound asleep seeing as it was well after one in the morning, but my heart literally skipped at the sight of Christine in the dark room. There she is breathing and safe and watched over by a peacefully snoring Meg. I crept closer and knelt by Christine's head. I stared at her sleep slackened mouth and then at her fan of eyelashes. I willed her eyes to open and see me, for her lips to curl in a sweet smile. I waited for a few minutes but she continued to sleep so I allowed myself to touch her lightly on the cheek, just to feel the softness briefly before I left. She stirred slightly and sighed my name while nuzzling into my touch and a smile curled my own lips. I loved how she spoke my name in her sleep.

My palm was resting on her cheek and she moved against it again, a smile forming on her mouth as her hand came up sleepily to hold mine in place. I suddenly realized that she might be frightened that I'd let myself into Meg's room, frightened or upset by it. If she made noise it could wake Meg, who would certainly have qualms about me popping into her room at this hour.

I began to pull away and let her fall back asleep but she reached out and fisted her hand in the front of my clothing. I let her pull me close and her lips began pressing to my masked face.

"Why are you still dressed?" she whispered sweetly as our lips met gently. The hand that was not fisted in my shirt front began sliding down my body until it rested over my groin. I froze in surprise as she slipped her hand beneath my pants and rubbed me while kissing my jaw and neck. I was hard in an instant and selfishly did not push her hands off me. "Hmmm? Are you going to answer me, love?"

I swallowed a few times before I was able to whisper, "We are in Meg's room."

She froze herself and was forced wide awake by my statement. Her hands immediately retracted and she pushed herself up a little.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed while glancing quickly at Meg's snoring comatose state.

I felt a hundred times a fool for being so weak and looked down. "I had to see you."

"We just saw...." she stopped and assessed me more closely. "Is everything alright?" she asked with concern and I nodded.

"Forgive me for this, please do not tell Meghan," I stood and Christine grabbed my hand tugging me towards her.

I leaned over and she threw her arms around my neck and pressed her cheek next to mine. "I'm sorry for exciting you, I thought we were home...I promise next time I won't leave you wanting."

My body twitched to hear such a promise from her lips and it took considerable control to leave her there and not throw her over my shoulder but I did leave her and in the dark hall I adjusted the offender into a more comfortable position before continuing down below. I prepared my sleep tea, knowing I had to take it tonight or risk another seizure. I was still aroused when I crawled into bed and I assumed it was because my sweet innocent angel had boldly touched me in her semi-sleep state as she never had while awake. I think I would have to try waking her in the middle of the night to see if she would be so bold again.

---

Christine

---

I tossed about after Erik left, feeling bad that I'd used my new knowledge on him without thinking. Of course you were in Meg's room, fool girl, unless he came and carried you away somewhere else while you were sleeping. In my defense, I thought I was dreaming but regardless, what was done was done and my sleep was fitful after his visit.

Meg shook me awake at seven thirty, pleading that I help her with her awful hair. I yawned and stretched and told her it was not awful before pushing out of bed. We combed her hair out and I helped braid a few pieces to make a band around her head. I placed the braids like you would a ribbon and asked her if she liked it. She nodded with a huge smile but then lamented that she couldn't leave the rest of her hair down.

"Maman would be furious if I showed up to rehearsal with my hair down," she studied her reflection seriously and I began braiding the rest of her hair.

"Can you leave it in a braid or must it be in a bun?"

"Are you joking? Bun, of course. Have you ever seen Maman wear her hair any other way?" she laughed as I tied off the braid and she began twirling it and pinning the low bun in place.

"Well, that looks very nice from the back," I offered as I began undoing my own braid.

"Too bad I have to wear my tights and I can't wear one of your pretty dresses..."

"I can just see you dancing your solo in the butterfly dress."

Meg laughed, "The only problem is my chest would pop out if I jumped."

We laughed as we readied ourselves for rehearsal and I did wonder what today was going to be like. Erik would be sitting there in the audience and Carlotta would probably be furious that I was present. I wondered if the other patrons would still clamour for my attention and I also hoped that Meg took the sight of Cameron in a wheelchair well. I still didn't want to tell her because I didn't want her forming opinions of him before she met him. Best to just leave it be and see what she said when she saw the man in the chair and then maybe tell her then that it was Count Inninbalm. I supposed that Erik's meeting with him had gone well since they were coming to rehearsal together today. Having the two of them as managers would be far easier than who we had now. Firmin and the other didn't seem to know much about music but they did seem to enjoy themselves so who's to say whether two musicians would be better at managing things. I laughed to myself at that thought. Of course Erik would be better. He excelled at everything that he did.

Meg and I made our way down the hall and I entered with her through the back of the stage. We were twenty minutes early for my warm up and Reyer was already sitting at the piano waiting for me. I waved to Meg as she joined the other dancers and greeted M. Reyer as I approached.

"Good morning, Mlle Daae," he nodded. "I hope the details of your schedule have been ironed out?" he asked politely.

I shrugged lightly, "I am not entirely sure yet. Did I miss anything yesterday?"

"Nothing worth being here for," he looked annoyed and I tried not to laugh.

"Shall we start," I smiled, liking the conductor more and more. I hoped Erik and Cameron kept him on.

We moved through the scales and vowels and Piangi approached after about ten minutes. He nodded his head and then joined me for my next scale. He had a marvelous voice, very strong and deep and true but it didn't blend with mine like Erik's did. Yesterday morning when Erik had begun singing with me the sound of it had stood all the hairs on my body. He had rarely sung with me before, only ever to show me how to do something, like a helping hand through the complicated melody. But when he threw his own voice into the song with mine, it had been magical.

Just like everything between us.

Piangi and I sounded good together, my clear bell-like sound rising above his deep tenor to tremble carefully above, like a bird catching a gust of air in its wings. With Erik, it was as if he tossed me into the heavens, flung higher than ever before, soaring above and beyond my natural ability before I began falling back to earth, where he would catch me.

We finished the warm up as more of the orchestra piled in and men were also filtering into the seats. I understood that any man who donated or invested money with the Opera Garnier would want to see that it was being well spent and put to good use, but something about the way some of them looked at the dancers and at me, myself, made me feel that they really were not here to check in on their investment.

We took our places on stage and waited for our cues. This morning was a full shortened run through of Hannibal without any lengthy music or breaks and so far it appeared as if I would be the leading lady. The doors at the back of the theater opened and Cameron rolled in smoothly, glancing left and right casually and then wheeling to an open area where he could observe the stage. I waited for Erik to follow him in but it was only the Count's butler who came in and stood right near the back. I watched Cameron for a moment to see if he would look up but his eyes wandered over the seated men and to the boxes above and past the orchestra and then Reyer called my name. I quickly stepped forward and he let me know that he'd been informed that Carlotta would join us for the second longer run through later this morning but now was my time to rehearse.

I felt a little bouyed that I would have a run through all to myself without her glaring at me and I turned back to see Meg gazing out into the audience. I knew precisely who she was looking at because she looked a little sad and thoughtful and it was not a look I had ever really seen on her face. Was just the sight of Cameron enough to cause that stillness in my exuberant sister? And somehow she had known before even meeting him that he would be special to her.

I wondered if she knew it was him but then I would expect her to give me an angry look that I hadn't told her. She stared at him for another few seconds and then her mother was snapping orders at the dancers. Meg rushed off and got into position, shoving one of the girls a little further from her.

I decided that she didn't know it was him because she was expecting Erik to be beside him and now that I was thinking of it, where in the world was Erik? Were they not coming in together, or when Cameron glanced around was he looking for Erik, or was Erik not coming at all because something else had come up?

My heart began to pick up pace and my feet wanted to carry me out into the audience and ask Cameron if he knew where Erik was.

He did not take laudanum Thursday night, I was pretty certain, because usually there was evidence of it the next morning. After taking the concoction he always just slept, immediately and deeply, and there was no time to wash the cup but I saw nothing when I'd risen from bed. That would explain the dream I was also pretty sure that he'd had...

Did he taken his laudanum last night? Did he overdose?

I was beginning to panic and had to walk away from everyone and take a moment to catch my breath at the side of the stage amongst the long curtains.

He is fine. Do not worry. He may not have taken it two nights ago but he would certainly take it last night. He was being responsible. He was taking care of himself.

How late was he up with Bernard? When exactly was his late night visit? Did he take himself to bed afterwards or could he not sleep due to my forward actions?

STOP IT! I yelled at myself pressing my fists into my eyes. Do not cry. Erik is fine. He is strong and smart and is just running late.

I turned back, once more composed, while the evil voice in my head told me over and over that Erik being late was akin to the world coming to an end.

**Author's note: Wow! I can't believe I was able to update so fast. Lucky for you guys, huh? **

**So tell me how lucky you feel to have another update? And where the heck is Erik?**


	48. Kiss Kiss

---

Erik

---

I came awake slowly, reaching to pull Christine into my arms and remembering she was not there. I rolled over in disappointment and buried my unmasked face in her pillow. Even had she been here, she probably would have scampered off first thing to tend to herself. I smiled and rolled and stretched as I thought of this wonderful feeling just the thought of my love filled me with. Soon we would always be together, each night, each morning...

I washed and dressed quickly, knowing I needed to meet Cameron out front before rehearsal started. I checked the time as I attached my watch and found it much later than I'd thought possible. I slept for eight straight hours! How did half an ounce of laudanum keep me asleep for so long!

"Merde," I raced into the washroom to glue my mask into place. Instead of having such a heavy hand with the glue, this time I trusted the perfect fit and glued the edges with a thin line and just put a small ring in the center. Hopefully that would be enough to save my healing skin, if not, I didn't really care. Pain was of no importance to me, but time was, and here I was late for my first endeavor in the music business.

I grumbled to myself as I ascended through the tunnels. What kind of impression was this going to make on Cameron? I quickly entered the theater and found him sitting by himself near the center aisle. I saw his butler standing at the rear and nodded to him as I approached Cameron's chair. Mme Giry was tapping her cane in time to a dance number while the corps twirled through a seductive slave dance.

I slid into the seat next to him and he smiled without looking my way.

"You are late," he pointed out quietly but jovially.

"My apologies," I didn't want to give my reason so I just left it with an apology. He didn't seem upset anyway. At least, not as upset as I was with myself.

He was taking in everything and looked to be enjoying himself. I looked around and saw roughly thirty men sitting spread out in front of us, lights blazing and the entire orchestra and cast able to plainly see the members in the audience. My heart skipped quickly as I realized every person in here could see me and I could hardly believe how easily I'd just walked in. I hadn't even been thinking of anything but disappointing Cameron with my tardiness.

We watched the dancers jump and bend and spin in unison until they all peeled away to leave only Meg on stage. She usually had the majority of solos, and in this production it was no different. She was a wonderful dancer, she floated on that stage, her natural talent and obvious joy in dancing emanating from her. She was marvelous to watch and I glanced at Cameron to see if he was still enjoying things. His brow was slightly furrowed as if in pain and I leaned close.

"Are you well?" I would hate to find out that traveling and moving around too much could cause him pain.

"I am fine," he replied curtly and I settled back into my chair and watched him from the corner of my eye. He was tensed and uncomfortable and I glanced around us quickly to see what might have caused this change in him. Were some of the patrons acting lewdly? No, only drinking publicly from their flasks and ogling girls. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

The dancing wrapped up and Christine came out to sing the next song with Piangi. She herself looked tensed and I wondered if I was missing some sort of threat but her eyes roamed out to the audience as Piangi took over and relief washed over her like a wave.

I belatedly realized she was probably worried that I was not on time. It was terribly unlike me.

I waved slightly at her and the corner of my mouth curled upward as she smiled. And how like her to worry.

Cameron also began relaxing again and I assumed he was in pain but too proud to say anything. The rehearsal chopped along, it was by no means a smooth presentation, as kinks were still being worked out and they skipped the extra music filler but at the end Cameron looked at me with a smile.

"This would be a fine business to own."

"I agree," I allowed myself a smile and saw that the dancers and singers were all pouring into the audience to mix with the patrons. They would have a short break before doing a second, hopefully smoother, run through. Christine began to make her way to me, her eyes intent on my face but she got interrupted by a few young men. I stood abruptly and Cameron laughed.

"That jealousy will have to be curtailed if she is to be our star." I glared angrily at him and then worriedly back to Christine who was smiling graciously and moving on from the group of boys. She was stopped again and I ground my teeth together as she allowed one of the next ones to kiss her fingers. "She is coming as quickly as she can, Erik," Cameron was highly amused by my state.

"At this rate, they will start again before I can say one word to her," I complained.

"Then go to her," he challenged me and I shot him a dirty look.

"And bring everyone's eyes on me? No, thank you." I crossed my arms and kept waiting for her as she laughed at something another man had said.

"They will all be on you anyway once it is well known that you are her husband. Why does it matter if it happens now or later?"

I grumbled incoherently and noticed that Meg was hopping towards us.

"Erik," she waved happily and her eyes slid to Cameron and then back to my face as a smile trembled into existence. "It looks as if Christine will be detained." She laughed lightly and then stood expectantly waiting for me to introduce her.

"Cameron, this is Christine's dear friend, Meghan Giry. Meghan may I introduce, Count Cameron Inninbalm." Meg smiled, her large blue eyes dropping to the ground bashfully. I'd never seen her so shy before and when I glanced at Cameron he was just sitting there. What was going on with everyone today? Was I still sleeping and not fully awake yet? People were acting out of character this morning. Of course, I myself was grossly out of character, attending a rehearsal in the lighted theater, standing here introducing people like I was any normal man.

"A pleasure Mademoiselle," Cameron finally said and Meg looked up with fluttering lashes. I thought maybe she was flirting but she looked a little tongue tied which was strange for her. But I really had no time for whatever was going on in their heads because I was watching Christine. She was being detained by two somewhat older looking men and suddenly she looked right at me with desperation. I decided to be a man and go save her from the greedy clutches of lonely and horny patrons alike.

"I will be right back," I said abruptly and neither one of them responded so I quickly strode down the aisle towards where my fiancée was being held hostage. I kept my eyes on her only.

"Erik!" she exclaimed brightly as I approached. I took her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist before pulling it through my arm. I glared a little at the men while she proudly touched my chest.

"This is my fiancé and singing instructor, Erik Karan. Erik, these men say they knew my father." She may believe that drivel but I certainly did not.

"Indeed," I arched my brow at the men and they bobbed their heads and mumbled a farewell to Christine as I turned with my woman securely on my arm. She hugged my arm lovingly.

"I was worried when you were so late this morning."

"I slept in," I explained as we made our way back to Cameron and Meg. I noticed that no one was trying to bother Christine now that I had her on my arm. That was perfect with me. They may all be looking at us but no one came to talk and I liked that just fine.

"Count Inninbalm," Christine reached out for Cameron's hand and he kissed her fingers.

"Mademoiselle Daae," he smiled warmly, "I thought I told you to call me Cameron?"

Christine laughed easily, "And you are to call me Christine, but you look too official and important in your suit for me to be so casual with you." Cameron laughed with her and then glanced at me.

"Do you feel better now, Erik?"

"Much," I replied dryly.

"Did you feel ill, my love?" Christine worried instantly and I reassured her that Cameron was just making a little joke with me. Meg was unusually quiet and Christine and Cameron did the majority of the talking until M. Reyer tapped his stand sharply a few times to gather everyone back for the second half of rehearsal.

"It was nice to meet you, Count Inninbalm," Meg said quietly as she made to leave. Cameron reached out somewhat awkwardly for her hand and I suddenly realized what his issue was. He politely told Meg he preferred to be called Cameron and that he looked forward to seeing her again and when he kissed her fingers, she blushed and then hurried away. Christine pecked my cheek with a kiss and warned me that Carlotta was singing the lead in the second rehearsal and I told her I'd brought ear plugs. She laughed and said good bye to Cameron before joining the chorus on stage.

I settled beside Cameron again and stared at him pointedly until he looked over.

"Can I help you?" he sassed me.

"Meghan is pretty, is she not?" He tensed and narrowed his eyes at me.

"She is lovely." He turned back to the stage and I couldn't help smirking.

"I told you Christine had friends." Well, technically she only had one good one, but if he liked Meg then it made things relatively easy.

Cameron remained silent beside me, staring at the stage. "She was excited to meet you," I offered, hoping that knowledge would relax him.

"Hummph," he grunted and would say nothing so I put in my ear plugs and settled back to observe the horror that was La Carlotta.

Cameron looked over after she'd been singing for less than a minute and just the look on his face told me he didn't think much of her talent. I pulled out another set of ear plugs and offered them to him. His lips pressed but he shook his head no. I shrugged and put them back in my jacket pocket while watching to see if his ears began to bleed. Part way through her solo a backdrop fell behind her and some of the dancers screamed.

"C'est le Phantom!" they exclaimed and tittered and I rolled my eyes at my legendary abilities. If it was me dropping that backdrop I would have dropped it on her head and not behind her.

Things settled back down and this time when Meghan danced her solo I watched only Cameron. His awkward stiffness returned, which led me to believe he was attracted to Meg, besides that when she danced his eyes never left her. Neither did the eyes of every man in the theater but I didn't give a fig about any of those horny toads. If my new partner and friend wanted to court Meghan I would help him however I could.

"She is a good dancer, no?" I asked as her solo wound to the end.

"She is," he spoke softly almost to himself and I grinned.

"Should Christine and Meg and I come for a visit some time soon then?" I teased, wondering if I looked like that when Christine was in my sights, and he looked over with disapproval on his face.

"What exactly are you insinuating?" he whispered angrily. I spread my hands out in defense and he focused back on the stage. "I could never..." his voice disappeared as the music swelled and I thought I heard him say, "...not enough..."

The music was loud at the moment so I wasn't sure what he'd said and wanted to ask, but didn't want to rudely keep talking during the performance, especially at the level that would be required to be heard, regardless that it was only a rehearsal. I waited until the end and then pounced on him.

"What did you mean, not enough?" he looked at me with exasperation.

"Is it not painfully obvious?" he waved at his legs and confused me even more. He grumbled and looked back at the stage where Mme Giry was talking to the corps, giving critiques and pointers. "I would hate myself for crippling her."

"Is your disease catching, because you really should disclose that before I got so close to you?"

He rolled his eyes at me, "Are you purposely being obtuse or do you really not understand me?"

"Understand you? No, I do not. If you want her then get her."

"And it was so simple for you and Christine?"

"No," I remembered all my issues when first dealing with Christine's love and tried to think what his problem could be before it hit me like a blow. "You do not think you are good enough for Meghan?"

"Don't act so surprised, Erik. You're not the only man who has come to terms with who he is." He began wheeling away and his butler came forward. I stood to follow him but glanced to see where Christine was and what she was doing. She was talking with some of the women who sang in the chorus and the lady who I thought was the seamstress so I followed Cameron out.

"Do you honestly think that I believe I am anywhere near good enough for Christine?"

He laughed shortly, "That point is moot, for as you said 'she is already yours'."

"But..." I didn't know how to argue for Meg in this case and wasn't sure if Meg would even want me to argue for her and he deftly turned towards me.

"Please Erik, I know you are only trying to be helpful but sometimes people do not want to be helped. I could never court Meghan. She is a dancer, a beautiful dancer, and I cannot even walk without help. How could I cripple such a free spirit with this?" he gestured to himself and then continued on. "You are all still welcome to come on Wednesday for dinner and I will gather my resources for next weekend as we planned. Good day Mr. Karan." He dismissed me abruptly and I stood in the grand hall of the theater that might soon be mine wondering how I was going to change his mind. If it was possible for me to find love then surely everyone had the chance. First though I would make sure it was what Meg wanted. Judging from her shyness I had a feeling she was interested. I would speak to Christine about it as well. When did I become a matchmaker?

I turned to reenter the theater and saw a familiar man sneak around a corner out of my sight. Anger seared my skin and I forged in the same direction wondering what the hell Raoul De Changy was doing skulking around the halls of the opera house.

---

Raoul

---

My eyes were glued to Christine every moment that she was on stage. My fairy child was truly a beautiful young woman and I waited for the end of rehearsal so I could try to speak to her. I wondered if she had thought about me at all these last few days.

When rehearsal ended, Julie waved at me and I waved back pretending to leave so she would follow. I didn't want to see Julie today, I wanted Christine so I left the theater and snuck down a hallway to wait for Julie to leave to meet with me. I wandered down a few empty halls, avoiding Julie's door, and after a good twenty minutes I circled back. Hopefully Julie had left to go to her room where we usually met.

I found Christine easily. She was talking to one of the managers on stage and glanced up as I approached.

"Mr. De Changy," she stiffened and I reached for her hand.

"Christine," I purred as I bent to kiss her fingers. "You look lovely today."

"Thank you," she took her hand back and I let her for now. "M. Firmin thank you for all your trouble, you will never regret keeping me."

"She may have conceded to having an understudy but she is going to pretend you are not there."

Christine laughed gently, "I noticed."

"Good day, Mlle. Thank you for being so understanding."

She nodded graciously and the manager left with a look my way and Christine turned. "How are you?" she asked politely, folding her hands in front of her.

"I am well," I smiled to try to relax her.

"And your father? Is he here?" she looked behind me.

"No, he has had a bit of an accident."

"Oh dear," she brought one hand to her mouth in surprise. "Is he alright? What happened?" She looked genuinely upset and I logged that reaction away. I may be able to use such sympathy to my advantage.

"He fell off a horse and broke his leg but he is healing, just cantankerous from being bed ridden."

"Oh, well give him my regards," she looked around the theater and I moved to put my face in her line of vision.

"You were marvelous. Your singing is superb."

"Thank you," she glanced away again, as if looking for someone.

"Have you lost someone?"

"My fiancé..." she trailed off and I thanked my hide that the freak of nature was not here anymore. It was disgusting to see Christine on his arm during the break and I'd held myself back from making a scene and pulling her away from him.

"Was he to meet you here?" I asked, trying very hard to be polite and pretending to help her look though there were very few people left in the theater by this time and none of them bore any resemblance to that freakshow.

"I think so..." she looked away from me again and I waited for her to finish searching.

"I did not see him," I offered.

"Hmmm..." she looked a little worried.

"Shall I help you look?"

"Oh, that is not necessary, I will just...ummm..." she trailed off and stepped back and I stepped forward and offered my arm.

"I will see you safely back to your room, surely he knows he can find you there?" she chewed on her lip thoughtfully before tentatively taking my arm.

"Thank you, that is kind of you."

Inside I chortled with glee. She was falling perfectly into my hands.

---

Erik

---

The toad hopped from one hall into another, looking distractedly at the various paintings and such as if he was bored and just waiting for something to happen. He passed by Meghan's door and down another hall.

I growled under my breath at him to leave here. I think I will look into revoking certain people's status of patron.

He disappeared down another hall and I quickened my step to follow him but as I came around the corner I recognized the hall that split in two directions.

"Dammit," I cursed and listened carefully. One way lead to the rarely used back entrance that I'd shown Christine but I could hear something down the other way so I proceeded quickly turning another quick corner, on alert, and finding a tall man with a dancer pinned to the wall. She was moving against him as his hand roved down her hip and I was about to turn away when the dancer kicked the man hard in the shin. He reared back and I saw it was Meg.

"Ne me touche pas!" she spat at him and he slapped her viciously across the face. She cried out and I was suddenly pulling the man off of her and throwing him against the opposite wall.

"The lady does not wish for your touch," I growled, fists clenched, ready for anything, and he straightened his coat and brushed his hands down his pants, adjusting himself while he laughed.

"Lady? Pfft...That girl is no lady..." he moved to get around me.

"Leave now," I mirrored his movement to keep myself between him and Meghan and he looked at me with annoyance.

"What do you care Monsieur? Have you had her as well and want another taste?" his eyes slid to Meg behind me. "She is tasty..." he leered and I slammed him against the wall and put my face inches from his.

"If you do not leave now, your body will seriously regret it."

"Get off!" he shoved at me and my hand braced against his throat.

"Are you leaving?" I questioned darkly, my voice dropping to an evil tone.

"Yes, yes, all this trouble for a little whore..."

I heard Meg sob behind me and I wanted to break the man's nose very, very much but I pulled him from the wall and shoved him away from Meg and I so hard that he stumbled and fell.

"That was uncalled for," he grumbled as he rose from the floor brushing at clothing and I clenched my fists.

"You are not leaving fast enough," my voice low and eerie with the urge to do this man serious harm.

"Fine, fine. Mlle Giry it was an honor," he laughed as he bowed mockingly and carried on down the hall. As soon as I could no longer see him I turned to Meg. She was crumpled to the floor sobbing and I knelt by her side and touched her back. She flinched away and I hastily removed my unwanted touch.

"Meghan, are you injured?"

"No," she cried horribly.

"What can I do?" I tried again but she only sobbed.

I touched her again, hoping it was only shock that had made her flinch from me and this time she threw herself onto my chest and clutched at me.

"I said n-no...b-but he...he...I t-tried t-to r-run...b-but...h-he..."

"Shhh, don't speak," I hugged her hard and finally looked around us. I really should get her to her room where she could calm down before someone happened upon us. I scooped her up easily and walked swiftly down the hall. Her room was not far and thankfully, most people were still milling near the theater. I carried her sobbing and shaking frame through her unlocked bedroom door and set her on the bed she'd been in last night. It also had the least amount of clothing on it so I didn't necessarily need the knowledge from my midnight visit. She curled into a ball and covered her face and I didn't feel right leaving her. I sat on the bed and shushed at her and patted her back while she cried.

I wasn't sure why she was so upset. I saved her from being raped. The man did slap her rather hard though and I'm sure it was enough to frighten her devastatingly so.

"Meghan," I finally could take no more. Christine would be wondering where I disappeared to. "Please stop crying and tell me, are you alright?"

She lifted her tear stained face and pushed damp pieces of hair from her face while she tried to get control of her breathing. It pained me to see those pretty blue eyes so anguished and puffy but I patiently waited for her to tell me she was fine so I could go. She sat up and took my offered handkerchief and after wiping her face she gathered herself with a few deep breaths.

"My cheek hurts," she finally spoke. I turned her face with a finger on her chin and her one cheek was a deep red as opposed to the flushed pink of the other. The skin by her eye was also starting to swell and I wished I had a cold cloth for her.

"Who was that scum?"

"Albert Rinton," she fiddled with the wet handkerchief. "I was...we were...intimate this summer. I told him no this time but he...he...." she covered her face and I really did not have the patience to let her cry continuously.

"Meghan," I said her name firmly and she looked up with tears gathering. I took her shoulders, "He will never touch you again, I swear it. You will be safe from such men." She tried to smile but it wavered fearfully and then she thought of something to make her worry. She leaned in and forcefully grabbed my lapels.

"You have to swear to me you will not breath a word of this to anyone!"

I did not like the idea of secrets from Christine and I didn't answer her fast enough.

"Swear it, Erik!" she pulled me closer, panic mounting. "Promise me you won't tell Cameron. Please Erik. Swear you won't tell him!"

Any doubts I had as to how Meg felt for my chair-ridden friend were kicked away by the revelation of her worry and I assured her quickly that I would not say a word to him. Her cheek though, would bear a mark for weeks and I offered to make her a balm to help heal it before Wednesday. Her face softened and her eyes seemed to also soften and she released my jacket to cup my bare cheek in one hand.

"Thank you so much, Erik," she whispered softly and then leaned in and kissed me.

I froze and my eyes widened as hers shut and she took my face in both hands and fully pressed her lips on mine again. A small sound of surprise left my mouth but I did not move and she noticed it and quickly took away her hands, retreating to curl at the headboard of her bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to her knees. "I should not have done that."

I had no response and felt frozen in time, I just sat there like a lump.

"I'm so sorry, Erik. That was very forward of me. I'm so used to men who...never mind. Oh, damn my impulsiveness!" she covered her face in total anguish. "Christine will be so angry with me!"

Christine...

A tremor went through me, releasing me from my catatonic state.

I just kissed a woman who was not my angel.

"Oh, Erik!" she clutched my sleeve. "Please please please forgive me. I just...you are so wonderful but I...I'm not in love with you or anything...or maybe I am..." her brow came down. "I don't know what I feel for you. You are the reason I'm still alive! How can I not feel something for you?"

That shook me from my stillness, "He was not going to kill you, Meghan..." I started and she cut me off.

"Not that," she dismissed it easily and then gazed at me with growing emotion. "Did you know I needed medications? Is that why you give Maman so much money?" her eyes glowed at me with curious wonder and hope and I tried to think of what to say to not encourage this behavior towards me.

The entire reason I'd asked Mme Giry to be the one to take care of my mail was because I'd heard her crying and praying for the life of her only child. I didn't even know what Meg looked like at that point or if the child was a girl or boy but Meg did not need to know any of that at this point. "You are ill?" I feigned ignorance.

"Not anymore..." she gazed at me. "Your money saved me." Now I was sure it was love glowing in her eyes and I got up from her bed, suddenly feeling it was very inappropriate.

"Meghan, I...I love Christine," I felt the need to remind her and saying my angel's name felt blessedly good. Meg looked down at her hands.

"I know Erik, and I'm happy for both of you. I don't think I love you quite the way she does but...isn't it alright if I love you a little in some sort of platonic way?"

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"I don't know!" she wailed out, becoming frustrated. "Because I wanted to show you I care. Because I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. Because I'm horribly impulsive and just a silly, stupid girl and a whore apparently and..."

"Do not call yourself that!" I demanded and her face softened again into that loving look and I stepped further away, frightened by her overwhelming acceptance and giving loving nature and those large blue pretty eyes that were searching mine.

"You are such a wonderful man, Erik. I think I do love you...you have always been there looking out for me from the shadows...how could I not love you?" she looked away shyly and sadly. "Will you avoid me now?"

There was a very long pause while I tried to make sense of things. My mind was tumbling and turning, my stomach was knotting and I wanted to bolt from her room, find Christine and hold her tight and kiss away the feel of Meghan's lips on mine.

"No, but I should go. Christine will wonder where I've gone..."

"Will you tell her?" she seemed frightened of my answer.

"I hate to keep anything from her."

"She will hate me," Meg covered her face with a sob.

"No, please do not cry anymore Meghan. I promise you she will not hate you."

"She most certainly will! How can you promise that? She will be furious with both of us and she'll never forgive me!"

"I swear no such thing will happen!"

Meg peeked up at me with a serious expression. "You say you will not allow Albert or any other like him to touch me and now you say Christine will not hate me when she has every right to...Do you control others? Do you have some power that bends the will of others?"

I backed up to the door wondering if her mother had warned her of my abilities. "I control what I can," I said cryptically and her eyes were locked on mine. "I apologize for leaving so abruptly Meghan but I must go now."

I hastened from her room in search of Christine. Rehearsal was long over now and I'm sure the patrons had all had their chat with my sweet. Would she be in her room? I had not been there to escort her as I was supposed to and neither had Meg. I'd been following Raoul...

Fear bubbled up from within that my love was in the clutches of that toad. How could I have forgotten that he got away from me? How did I let those sad blue eyes cloud my mind? I dodged into one of my tunnels and began to run. Guilt and fear burned in my belly as I ran but I reached her room and through the mirror found her lying, face down, on her bed, fully clothed.

She looked exhausted, her breath hitching up and up and then releasing as she sagged further into the bed. My hand hesitated to press the lever that would take me to her embrace.

If ever I was actually worthy of that embrace I most certainly was not anymore. I had shirked my duties as her fiancé and not been there to save her from boring, cloying patrons. Worst of all, my perfect angel's lips were not the last to touch mine and I itched to remedy that, but I also wanted to wash my face or go to confession, to somehow cleanse myself before pressing my sinful lips to her perfection.

I was a disgusting evil vile sort of man who betrayed his true love with her best friend. I turned quickly from her mirror. I would let her rest for now while I sought to cleanse my soul.

---

Christine

---

I was so tired of crying that I couldn't muster the energy to move. I lay clothed on my tiny bed waiting for Erik to come. I didn't know where he'd gone or if he was alright. My heart felt empty and I longed for him to return and warm me. Maybe he had to see Cameron home to make up for his tardiness...

I'd waited for him until there was barely anyone left in the theater and Raoul had offered to escort me...

Fresh tears welled and I let them soak into my already wet pillow. Erik had been right about that horrible scum of a man. He was a trickster and a dastardly person.

He'd been so polite and proper all the way to my room but it was all a lie. When we arrived at the door he asked to come in. I, of course, said no but he held my hand tight in his and would not let go.

"Christine, you do not understand..." he was looking down at the ground and I tried to get my hand back.

"Let go, please," I tried to stay calm.

"How can you let that freak touch you and yet pull away from me?" anger flared through me.

"How dare you call Erik that!" his head came up, those scary blue eyes so bright.

"But it's true! Are you blind?"

"I see through you!" I slapped at his chest trying to get him to let go and he stepped closer, pressing me to my door.

"His skin looks like snow, like he lives in a cave, for Christ's sake, and his face is a nightmare..."

"Stop it!" I struggled against him.

"He's freakishly tall and thin and bony and his voice is like poison in your ears..."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled at him as he grabbed my wrists to stop me from pummeling his chest and shoulders.

"Is that what your father wanted for you? For you to give yourself over as a charity case to some circus freak?"

"HELP ME!" I screamed, hoping someone would come. "Please..." my throat clenched in a sob and I heard a door open down the hall.

"Christine?" one of the girls, Violet, I think, poked her head out, followed by a man pulling a shirt on. "Do you need help?"

"Ye..." Raoul clamped a hand over my mouth and I thrashed.

"She's a little worked up, she just found out her fiancé is cheating on her," Raoul let the smooth lie spill from his mouth and added, "As if anyone else but you would be stupid enough to touch that monster..." under his breath.

I kneed him in the groin and he finally let go and stumbled back with a curse.

"I hate you!" I screamed at him and the man with Violet stepped forward.

"Christine..." Raoul begged and the man grabbed him.

"Leave, Mlle Daae alone."

I turned to my door with a sob but my hands were trembling so bad that I could not get the key into the tiny slot. Raoul was saying something to the man and I felt like only two seconds later he was behind me and I was pressed flat to my door.

"Please Christine...I need you..." he whispered in my ear and I could see that Violet's door was closed again. What golden words had Raoul spun to get my rescuers to leave me in his hands again?

"If you really loved me...you...you would not do this..." I tried...tried to keep from panicking.

"We are meant to be together. Feel how our bodies are perfectly matched," he pressed into me, one hand sliding down my side to tighten on my hip. His lips found my neck and I shivered as he kissed the bend of my neck. "See how you respond to my kiss..."

"I hate you," I whispered it this time, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

"Don't say that Christine," he rested his forehead on my shoulder. "Your father knew we were meant for each other and I feel it too..."

"I hate you," I repeated because he did not like to hear it.

"Please, my love..." I growled in disgust.

"I am not your love!" I thrashed and he stepped away. I looked at him over my shoulder, wondering what he was planning and he was staring at me in sorrow and veiled annoyance.

"You will be," he promised before turning and walking away.

I almost collapsed with relief right there but I managed to open my door before doing so. Then the tears started and I threw myself on my bed and prayed for Erik to come and hold me and make everything go away. Including Raoul. If only Erik had been there at the end of rehearsal. If only he'd escorted me to my room and then down below where the evening that I had planned for us could have unfolded. If only he'd been at my side. But he was not.

Why not?

Where was he?

---

**Oh Boy! So much is happening that I'm getting a little spun around....whew *wipes brow with back of hand* Whipping up controversy and conflict and romance and intrigue is tough work :P**

**Hope you enjoyed it! How bout leaving me a little hello to let me know what you thought? **


	49. Confessions

---

Erik

---

I ended up at Nadir's. He was the only person I could turn to, the only one who would welcome me instantly. I let myself in and went to his office knowing he usually went over his work before dinner.

When he happened upon me in the dark room he was startled, "Erik? What are you doing here?" I rose like a man going to his death.

"I have done something terrible," his face went worried for an instant but smoothed into doubt.

"What has happened? Is Christine alright?"

Christine...

The name balmed me and yet lashed me like a deadly blow. She will hate us both...she will hate me most of all...I've betrayed her...Time to confess.

"I have kissed the lips of another." It sounded awful. She will never forgive me...

"Is that all?" Nadir solemnly closed the door behind him.

"All?" I echoed, anger stirring. "Is that all? I have betrayed an angel!"

"You are shaking, Erik," I was? "Sit down. Tell me what happened." He was so calm and I really didn't want to be angry at him.

"It was Meghan Giry." He was surprised.

"Little Meg?"

"Little?" I repeated feeling faint as I recalled her youth and how innocent her kiss had been. I sank into the chair beside Nadir burying my face in my hands and his hand fell like a priest's upon my shoulder.

"Tell me."

"I don't even know how it happened. It was so fast and suddenly her lips were on mine and she..."

"Her lips?" he interrupted. "Did she kiss you?" he asked for clarification and I looked up.

"What does that matter? I didn't push her away, I didn't make her stop. I betrayed Christine..."

"Calm down, Erik. Breathe!" he ordered and I dutifully took a breath and then another. "Did you enjoy it then?" he queried and those calming breaths were rendered useless.

"Enjoy...I love Christine!" I cried out. "I didn't even have time to think about whether it was enjoyable or not. It shocked the bloody hell out of me! I sat there like a dolt as she professed to love me even though she's never known me. I've ruined everything and Christine will hate us both..." I dropped my head into my hands once more, exhausted by the thought of carrying on without my angel.

"You are over reacting, Erik. She will not hate you, though she may not be pleased, especially with Meg's role. And just to make sure I fully understood you, Meghan kissed you, lightly I presume," his brow arched and I nodded mutely. "And you feel you've betrayed Christine why?"

I looked at him like he was crazy, "I've felt another's lips. Christine was to be my first, last and only..." Nadir's hand came up to stop my words.

"First is a treasure certainly and perhaps she will be your last but the only lips to touch yours...that is not necessarily the way of things." I was unbelievably incredulous at the words coming from his mouth. "Do not misunderstand me," he held up his finger. "What you have with Christine is not easily duplicated and I feel it happens rarely that two people are so connected. I would never counsel you to search elsewhere for love but to think you will never have another woman..."

I could not listen to this! I stood to pace, "I do not want any other woman!"

"Fine Erik, I'm not saying you must but men are by nature lustful creatures and as long as the woman is willing then there is nothing wrong with fulfilling any urges you feel..."

"I have no urges where Meghan is concerned."

"That is good," he encouraged and I stopped to look at him.

"You are confusing me," I stated bluntly and he sighed and rubbed the space between his eyes.

"I am saying the wrong things...I am used to women who expect their husbands to bed other women...not that I ever did when Rooheeky was my bride...though she tried to get me to on several occasions..." a small distant smile curled his lips before he shook his head slightly. "But here in France that is not usually the way a marriage works. Though I do wish to mention, that as much as I loved my wife, do you honestly think I have not bedded a woman before or since my marriage to her?"

I was trying to follow him but I kept thinking of the man attacking Meghan and her tears and Christine's exhausted body splayed out on her bed...

"I don't follow..." was he honestly telling me about his sex life?

His brow furrowed, "I'm confusing you again but I'm slightly confused myself." He thought for a moment and then, "If you were unattached I would advise you to explore women as you would any subject you wish to learn. But when you make a pledge to a woman, as you already have, you are giving up the right to be promiscuous. Christine is a different kind of woman then those I am used to. I think she would not be open to sharing you, but as you have already, loudly, declared that you have no interest in Meghan, I am not sure what your issue is at present."

Again my mouth was opening and closing and Nadir smiled warmly.

"This mask you've fashioned is remarkable. What is it made of?"

"Rubber," I answered distractedly.

"It moves well, I like it. It shows your handsome face better than the white one." I nodded in agreement not really paying attention as I stared at the cross of wood in the window.

"Should I go to confession?" I asked suddenly, feeling the need to be cleansed, and Nadir laughed.

"If you think it's necessary but Meghan kissed you, Erik. From what you've told me, you did not pursue it or her. Tell Christine you did not enjoy it or encourage it and make sure next time to pay more attention to a woman closing in on you." I nodded in agreement.

"Then you think I should definitely tell her."

"Of course," both eyebrows arched. "Better you tell her than she find out from Meghan. Imagine trying to explain why you did not tell her first?"

OH GOD!

"I have to go," I started for the door.

"Will you still be coming tomorrow? I have been looking forward to seeing you both..."

"Yes, of course, tomorrow...see you then," and I left, racing back to my sleeping beauty to confess my sins and be cleansed of this once and for all.

She was my angel. Only she could absolve me.

---

Nadir

---

Erik left distractedly and I laughed as I limped my way to bed. I never thought I would be giving him that kind of advice but then who else did he have to turn to. My humor faded.

He was so unused to affection of any kind that he was making a huge problem out of something relatively small. I had a feeling that Meg did not mean the kiss in any romantic sort of way. She was Christine's friend and I found it hard to believe she would be trying to steal a man who was already taken. But then the role models that Meg has had so far were not very good. Some of those dancers were very promiscuous and even bedded married men on a regular basis. They would have fit in well in Persia, but Meg was not that kind of girl. Her mother was very religious and very up tight and has raised her to be a relatively good girl.

I stretched out on my bed and smiled at my worried boy. His innocence was quite refreshing to see. I did not think he could have any left inside of him after years under the Shah's whip but in the subject of love he was a newcomer.

His new mask was also quite a feat. It hid his deformity almost seamlessly and I hoped that it would make him realize he was not any different from other men. Perhaps smarter than all of them, I thought smugly, but not any less attractive.

Not that he needed to attract anyone, he already had Christine. I worried briefly that other girls would be as drawn to him as Christine. Was this thing with Meghan just the start of something more? Was his voice so hypnotic, his music so mind numbing that no one would be able to resist him? Would girls fall at his feet and abandon all others to be near my enigmatic son?

Rubbish.

What foolish things to think of...

---

Christine

---

Gentle fingers were removing my shoes and I jerked wide awake to scramble away from the touch. Erik took in my mess of a face and was concerned in a blink. He cradled my tear stained puffy face in his long hands and a sob crawled up my throat.

"I did not enjoy it," he said firmly.

"What?" I momentarily forgot my pressing tears and just enjoyed looking into his stormy eyes.

"Did you forgive her, Christine? Did you let her explain?" I felt like I might be dreaming because I had no idea what Erik was talking about. I pinched myself and then pinched him and he looked at me strangely.

"What?" I asked again but then thought, "Who?" was a better question.

"Meghan," he frowned a little, "I thought you were sleeping but..." his frown deepened. "You've been crying..." his fingers grazed my cheek and then he pulled me to his chest where he held me tight. "I had to stop him. I could not just leave her there. She was grateful, that is all." I ignored his words because at the moment they made no sense. His scent and his embrace were my safe haven and I shifted to move closer. He made a noise and held me even tighter, a strange tension in his back. We held each other silently until finally Erik spoke in an emotional voice.

"Please, ma chardonnerette, say something..." I sighed and reluctantly let go but took one of his hands to keep contact with him. I always felt better when we were touching.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Do I get a full explanation?"

He searched my face in confusion, "But you have been crying..."

I nodded and took a few breaths, not wanting to burst into tears again. "I'm afraid, my love, that you were very right about Raoul." Tension sang through Erik and I watched the muscles in his jaw stand out. "I should not have trusted him and I never will again..."

"What did he do?" each of Erik's words were clipped and I tightly held his rigid hand in both of mine, needing to be in contact and afraid he would pull away once I confessed my naivety.

"I could not find you and Raoul offered to walk me to my room..." Erik's eyes were swirling and I quickly spilled the rest. "He said terrible things to me and I tried to make him leave but he pressed me to my door and groped me and kissed me..." Erik closed his eyes as if in pain. "I swear I did nothing to entice him, I didn't even want to take his arm when he offered but he was being so polite that I never thought he would do what he did..."

Erik pulled his hand from me and stood from the bed, his back hunched and his fists clenched. My lips trembled but I would not dissolve into tears. Twice now I'd allowed Raoul to assault me and I wondered if there were better ways for me to protect myself and keep him away, to keep it from ever happening again. Erik could not be with me always and I needed to find some way to defend myself.

Suddenly Erik turned and knelt before me, gathering my hands in his.

"I must confess something to you," he looked very upset. "This day, another's lips have touched mine as well." I blinked like an owl.

"What...when...how...who?" now I sounded like an owl too.

"When I left the theater I came upon Meghan being assaulted by a patron..."

"Oh my goodness, is she alright?" I wanted to jump up and run to her but Erik's earnest face held me still.

"She will be...but...she was very frightened and very grateful for my rescue. She kissed me, Christine." He was looking at me as if scared and suddenly his confusing words were making sense. Did I let her explain? Did I forgive her?

All I could think of was Meg's bright beautiful exuberance and her pressing it on Erik. Jealousy flared to life.

"Is she a good kisser?" I asked, knowing that she probably was and his brow came down.

"What? How should I know?"

"Well, she kissed you!" I declared, immediately feeling bad for getting upset with him when it was Meg I was upset with. And Erik did not get upset with me at all over Raoul.

"It was only a tiny kiss and I certainly did not respond to it." I remembered my shiver at Raoul's touch and shame washed through me. "I did not enjoy it at all. I felt awkward and inappropriate but please do not be upset with Meghan. She only thinks of me as a friend and nothing more."

"You don't kiss your friend's fiance!" my lips were trembling in anger. How could Meg do such a thing to me?

"Please, ma chardonnerette, do not be cross..." Erik's eyes were so worried and his hands clasping mine so hard that my anger began to fall flat. I didn't have it in me to stay angry, not at Erik, and I felt like the surge of anger had only been to cover my own shame. He rescued her and she was grateful, I knew I would have been if Violet's man had done a better job. But I also knew I would be having a little talk with Meg about proper behavior towards another girl's fiance. He was mine and no one's lips were supposed to touch his but mine.

I reached out and ran my fingertips over said lips. "I'm not cross anymore."

He still searched my face worriedly, "Are you sure, pet? Can you really forgive us?"

I nodded and caressed his face lovingly, "Can you forgive me for trusting that despicable man?"

"There is nothing to forgive." he nuzzled my palm, his eyes softening. "Your innocent trust in others is one of your many endearing qualities but from now on will you please take more care?"

I nodded again, "Can you show me how to protect myself in case he comes again?"

"I will make sure he does not."

"All the same, I should know how to keep men back."

"I could teach you a few simple things to use in emergencies..."

"I swear I will use them if anyone gets too close..."

"Or I could just tie you up on my bed?"

"Whatever you prefer..." I smiled at his joke and he reached up to twine his fingers into my hair and our eyes locked. I wanted him to kiss me now. I wanted us both to reclaim what had been tarnished.

"Christine..." he breathed my name and buried both hands in my hair to pull our faces together. He did not kiss me right away, though I reached for his lips, he merely pressed our foreheads. "You alone can make my soul take flight," he whispered and then gently, ever so gently, laid his lips on mine.

My body sang and rejoiced with the press of our mouths and I shimmied closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and tilting my head to deepen the kiss. He gathered me in his arms and pulled me from the bed into his lap as his tongue traced into my mouth. We both moaned at the intimate touch and I melted into his embrace.

This was how a kiss was supposed to feel, this warm melting sensation traveling down your spine as hands held firmly and cherished. My fingers combed through his hair and I remembered what Meg had said about dragging your nails over the man's scalp to increase pleasure. I wondered suddenly if she did that to Erik and I broke away from his intoxicating kiss.

"My love," he cooed at me, continuing to explore down my neck and when he covered the same spot that Raoul had kissed, tears welled up as I shivered again. It was a wholly different sensation, the two kisses on my neck. I was sure that when Raoul had done it that the shiver had been revulsion but they felt so similar. How could my own body betray Erik like that? And I couldn't stop fretting that Meg had shown Erik just how inexperienced I was. A tiny kiss? What was a tiny kiss? Raoul didn't even kiss my lips but I wouldn't call what he did tiny.

The tears began to track down my face and Erik cradled me in the crock of his arm like I was a child.

"Angel...cry no longer," his eyes bored into mine. "Feel my heart," he pressed my hand to his chest where I could feel the strong quick beat of his body. "You know that it beats with yours...my songbird..."

I wanted to say something equally romantic to him but all I could feel was the buzz of desire he wrought through me. I took his face in my hands and pulled his lips down to mine. I pushed everything out of my head and kissed him. I lost myself in the taste of his mouth and the feel of his tongue, I thought of nothing but this kiss, this moment, this man who held me tight. I kissed him until I was completely out of breath and had to pull away.

I snuggled into him, clutching him to me. He was mine.

"Can we go home?" I asked quietly once I'd caught my breath and he responded quickly. He sat me back on the bed and fetched my shoes from where he'd dropped them and grabbed my cloak from the closet. As he draped it around my shoulders he pushed some curls behind my ear.

"I thought you would hate me..." I looked up surprised and about to say that was crazy but he grabbed my chin. "Christine, we cannot control what others will do..." a separate thought slid through his eyes but his focus returned to me and he continued. "There may be some who do not approve of the sight of us together. They may try to take us apart by any means available to them but remember this..." his hands slid to frame my upturned face. "I cannot be taken from you. Our love is a force so strong that it cannot be broken." The backs of his fingers trailed down my neck as I gazed up at him. "Nothing can keep me from you, Christine." His hands dropped away and we stood a hairsbreadth apart staring into each other's eyes. "I am forever yours," he pledged.

"I love you Erik. Now and for always," I promised him.

His eyes closed and he wrapped his arms tightly around me for a brief emotional embrace and then he turned with purpose and my hand clasped in his. We moved through the darkness of his tunnels to his home below the ground. As we approached the door I remembered all the things Meg had taught me last night and how I'd wanted to try some on him tonight but now, after everything that had happened, I didn't feel so adventurous. Instead I made us a small meal and after we ate we decided to go to bed. I think we both just wanted to hold each other and going to bed gave us the excuse, so I readied myself and crossed the living area to his bedroom. The door was open and he was poking the fire when I came in. I still had on the silly bloomers under the long nightgown so I crawled into his bed quickly before he turned around.

When he straightened and came to me I saw that he'd removed his mask and a smile fluttered onto my face. I was the only person he was so easy around. I was the only person who got to see him free from all his masks, the real and imagined ones. I opened my arms to him as he slid in beside me.

"Will you take laudanum tonight?" I asked as our bodies settled together.

"Once you are asleep, I will."

"But what if I stay up all night?" I teased.

"Then I will too," he smiled back at me and I loved to see such light in his eyes.

"What if I pretend to fall asleep?"

"I will know," he smirked.

"How?"

"You snore."

"I do not!" I laughed.

"Perhaps you are right," he nuzzled his nose to my throat. "But it is quite adorable how you snuffle in your sleep and breath out my name..."

"I do not snuffle," I giggled as his lips found my ear.

"My little snuffler..." he nibbled on my earlobe and I couldn't help arching myself against him.

"Erik..."

---

Erik

---

I held her close to me and wanted to make love to her, to make her mine all over again, but I would have to hold my ardor for a few more days. I hoped she told me the moment I was allowed to have her again, but I knew she probably wouldn't. I knew I should stop teasing myself with the tender curve of her ear but I moved greedily onto the column of her throat to taste her skin. Her breath was panting above me, her nails biting into my shoulders...

A moan left her mouth as I sucked on her neck and I couldn't help rolling her to her back. I gazed down at her beneath me and she stared up at me. I could see in her eyes that she was afraid I'd forgotten but how could I honestly forget when she was wearing so much clothing.

"Do you need to wear this?" I plucked at her nightgown. The whole reason I'd bought it was to help me keep my hands off her and now I wanted to shred it because it was helping very much.

"Yes!" she squeaked, blushing adorably.

"Oh," I stuck out my lip in jest, "I was hoping you would say no."

She smacked my chest playfully, "Don't be so naughty, Erik."

"One of us has to be...." she laughed.

"I can be naughty too but now is not the time," she said haughtily from her prone position and I rolled my eyes.

"You could never be as naughty as I want you to be," I was liking where this teasing might lead.

"You want me to be a naughty girl?" she twirled a circle on my chest with one distracting finger.

"Only with me," I held up one of my own fingers, "And only when we are alone." I touched her nose with it. "It would seem both those criteria have been met..."

"Hmmm..." she gave me a saucy look and then started hiking up her nightgown. My heart raced forward thinking she meant to pull it from her body but she stopped when it reached her hips. I realized why as she wrapped her legs around my hips.

"Is this better?" she whispered twining her arms around my neck to pull me down to her mouth.

"Much..." I kissed her succulent mouth for an extended amount of time as her arms and legs held me so close to her body. I was hard and wanting and pressed myself down into her more than once. She did nothing to hinder my growing desire and writhed beneath me wantonly. I growled at her.

"You are my little minx...my naughty vixen...trying to tease me..." my hands skimmed down to her hips and she wiggled as I felt the voluminous bloomers. A smile quirked my lips and I could just imagine what they looked like on her. She was embarrassed by them and thought I would find them silly or ugly I suppose but I had a vision of her wearing nothing but the bloomers with her hair all down around her shoulders and her peeking over said shoulder at me with a seductive flutter of her lashes...

I groaned and rolled off of her to stare at my ceiling. I wanted her viciously and I tried to calm myself. Later...a few days...she is yours forever...can't you wait a few days?

She rolled to snuggle her body next to mine and one of her dainty hands slid over my stomach and down over my straining pants.

"Do you still want me to be...naughty?" she asked quietly and I held my breath as her nails sketched up the length of me.

I swallowed hard and managed to make a joke, "If you are too naughty I may have to spank you afterwards..."

"I could spank you?" she offered as her hand dipped into my pants to trail over my hard cock. He jerked excitedly at the soft gentle touch and I trapped her hand there by pressing mine over top.

"Christine...?" part of me wanted to say no, she didn't have to do anything for me and the other part of me wanted to offer up my hips in invitation.

"Shhh," she brushed a kiss over my cheek, "Let me...love you..."

I could think of nothing eloquent to say so I merely released her hand and she removed it. The first thing she did was undo the waistband of my pants. I heard myself make a strangled sound and closed my mouth quickly.

"Just to make you more comfortable..." she whispered at my ear as her hands finished with the ties. I had visions of her doing things to me that I knew she would never do. She was so innocent and pure and would never rip the pants from me to get at..."Now, I need you to roll over," she purred at me and I complied, more than willing to bury my reddened face into the pillow.

Her hands slowly trailed over my back, making gentle sweeping motions down from shoulder to hips. Her nails skimmed my ribs briefly and I quivered with laughter.

"Sorry," she giggled and then straddled my backside to put her hands on me once more. She massaged my shoulders and back, all the while humming softly, until I was drooling in complete relaxation. This power she wielded over me was insane. I'd been beaten into submission before but never loved into submission. I think it was the worse of the two because there was no defense against love. At least when you are being beaten you have that anger inside you to wrap yourself in but with this, there was nothing. I lay beneath her, completely docile, knowing that if she ordered me to bring her back someone's head, preferably Raoul's, I would do it with a smile on my face. "I can see how warmed oil would be good..." she mussed softly and I began a wonderful waking dream of the two of us rubbing oil on each other.

Maybe for our wedding night...

"Can you roll back over?" she slipped from her perch and I rolled lazily and stretched like some kind of feline, putting my arms behind my head to smile at her.

She smiled warmly back, her eyes glowing, "It felt good I take it?"

"Marvelous," I sighed, incredibly at peace with my angel, until her hands started tugging my pants down my hips.

That strangled noise came again and I grabbed one of her hands tightly.

"Sorry dear, I should have asked," when I didn't release her hand, she started to grin. "Am I not permitted?" she teased with twinkling eyes.

My mouth worked silently and I released her hand to allow her to remove my pants. Her eyes looked away as the pants revealed me to the room and they stayed down as she revealed inches of my legs at a time. Maybe I have really long legs but I felt like it took forever before she was finished and her eyes traveled back up them, resting for a moment on my groin before meeting my eye. I detected a growing blush on her cheeks and she slapped my hip.

"Roll over again," she commanded and I obeyed without hesitation. It felt odd to be naked when she was still covered in cotton from neck to toes. I lay there for a whole minute before her hand curved over my bare backside. I tensed slightly, thinking she meant to spank me as she'd mentioned. "You have a magnificent body, Erik," she said quietly and I tried not to snort in amusement.

"Is that so?" I said instead, knowing my rail thin body was not only covered in scars but the palest white to ever be seen.

"Mmm hmm, so muscular and defined..." she let her hand wander down my thigh.

"So, am I naked so you may ogle me?" I joked, not believing that could really be the reason.

"Partially," she laughed, "But I also wanted to try massage on you for relaxation purposes."

"It works," I moaned as she began massaging my thighs in a rhythmic fashion.

"That's good..." she started humming again and I closed my eyes as her hands worked their way down both legs. She positioned herself at my feet and lifted one foot to massage the very bottom of it. Her thumbs worked small circles and hard lines and I never thought something so simple could feel so amazing. Sensations tingled throughout my body and I was half asleep when she curled next to me and cupped my rear end in one hand.

"Was it relaxing?" she whispered.

"Yesss..." she snuggled closer and sighed. "Should I return the favor?" I sort of slurred the question, even though I wasn't entirely sure I could move well at this moment.

"No, my love," she kissed my arm where it kept her face from getting close to mine, "That was just for you." I lifted my arm with gargantuan effort and pulled her closer so our noses brushed and our bodies lay even with one another.

"It was wonderful, thank you, I will never doubt another book that speaks highly of massage."

Her hands slid around me and her nails skimmed up and down my back. "There's more..." she whispered.

"More what?" I began pressing kisses to her forehead.

"More I can...do to you..." one of her hands slid to my hip and I felt her hesitating.

"While I can do nothing to you? I think that would be more akin to torture then anything for relaxation purposes."

She giggled and snuggled closer, "Another time then..."

We lay in each other's arms and I truly had never before felt so at ease. I wanted her still but I felt languid and contented to just lay here with her.

"Close your eyes, Erik," she started pushing up.

"What for?"

"Just keep them closed." I obeyed and she shuffled away and I could hear the rustle of fabric and then her breasts pressed softly to my bare chest. My arms slid automatically around her torso and the feel of her bare back on my palms was like a symphony of music to my ears.

"So you do not need to wear the nightgown?" I asked sarcastically and she wiggled against me.

"No, I guess not," she giggled, "Good night, my love."

"Bon soir, ma chardonnerette."

I never got up to take my laudanum but that may be because I fell asleep in the arms of an angel.

---

Christine

---

Sunday morning I woke before Erik. He was deep asleep so I rose and gathered my discarded night gown and went to heat some water. I wanted to go to church today with Meg and her mother, I wanted to talk to Meg, and I wanted to wash before I did any of it.

I cleaned myself and re-braided my hair and dressed in a simple dress before going back to the kitchen to make breakfast. The clock by the door said it was eight and I knew they usually left for church around nine thirty. Just as I wondered if I should try to wake Erik he emerged from his room, still naked.

"You are dressed?" was the first thing he said and I smiled at the sight of his tight slim body rolling towards me.

"Should I not be?" I asked saucily and he reached me and pulled me hard against him.

"I did not enjoy waking without you beside me," he growled in my ear before licking it delicately.

"Mmmm..." I trailed my greedy palms over his backside as he nibbled his way down my neck.

"We could go back to bed and start the day again?" his hands encircled my waist. "I could also remove this?" his deft fingers began playing with the ties at the back of my dress and I squirmed away.

"I wanted to go to church with Meg and her mother," I blurted out before I forgot that was why I'd gotten dressed in the first place.

"Oh," he pouted in his very own way which was to say he did nothing at all. He just stood there, gloriously naked, and stared at me.

"Is that alright?" I prompted and he looked over at the tea pot.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"If you want to you can...but I think I need to speak to Meg without you there."

His eyes were riveted to the teapot and I wanted to turn to see if it was indeed so interesting and not the plain white one I'd just filled.

"They usually leave early," he pointed out.

"I know," I shifted my position so I would block the teapot from view and his eyes snapped to mine, wild with thoughts. "You don't mind?"

He shook his head but I could see all the things unsaid in his eyes, "I will get dressed then." His voice was sharp and curt and he strode away with purpose as I watched his backside.

We ascended through the Opera House and Erik was very quiet. Not that we often spoke in the tunnels but we never were completely silent and this time he was silent as a tomb. He'd dressed all in black and pushed his white mask into place and I wondered if he'd done it subconsciously or on purpose. Something was definitely on his mind but I pushed aside any negative ideas and when we reached my room I wrapped my arms around him.

He was startled and had to turn slightly to hug me back but I felt him relax, even though no words were passed between us.

"What time will we go to Nadir's?" I asked as we parted.

"As soon as you return."

"I will make sure we do not dawdle," I had a surge of memories at his serious face. It has been awhile since I've seen him so severe, it was easy to forget after last night. "Do you not want me to go to church?" I had to ask.

He looked surprised, "No, of course you can go, I just...won't...I can't...I do not think..."

"You don't have to come, my heart, though you will have to on one certain day in particular," I wiggled my finger at him so he knew what I meant.

He relaxed slightly, "I am...not ready yet..." I patted his arm soothingly remembering all he'd said about thinking himself evil. Was that the reason for his hesitance..."My mother was a nun."

I was shocked first, and then angry like I've never been before. Anger burned through me that a woman who had pledged her life to God would be so calculatedly cruel to her son. I tried to swallow my anger down, "How did she get pregnant?" I heard myself ask.

Erik didn't answer right away and I just knew it was going to be bad, "She was raped." My fingers were gripping his forearm tightly because there were no words that could lessen such a confession. "I remember her saying the devil raped her..."

I wordlessly slid to Erik's chest to put my arms around him.

"She probably would have killed me when I was born but the priest would not let her, he forced her to care for me so...she did."

His voice had that vacant sound to it and I squeezed him tight. Now I wanted to stay with him today and not go traipsing off but I stepped back and gazed up at my man. This was why he knew all about God and religion, why he believed but didn't, why he thought he was evil. His terrible mother had tainted his heart and now I had the honor and large job of making him see she was wrong. I took one of his hands and kissed the long fingers and knuckles half a dozen times.

"When you are ready, I will be there with you."

"I know, pet." He tucked a curl behind my ear, "You should go, I will meet you here when you return."

I stepped into him and tilted my face upwards for a goodbye kiss. He seemed surprised but gently pressed his mouth on mine, careful of the hard mask.

"I love you," he whispered and I paused to cup his cheek and look into his stormy eyes.

"I love you, Erik."

---

Erik

---

I watched her leave and knew I should have just gone with her. Coward.

I missed her almost right away too. Weak coward.

I flopped onto her bed and wondered what I was going to do with myself all morning. I had to visit a certain household to make my displeasure at certain actions known, but Sunday mornings were not a good time for unpleasant house calls. I could work on the plans for our home, since we would be going to Nadir's later I could double check some measurements. I'd also promised Meg a tincture to heal her face and remembered that I had extra made down below.

"Well, at least that's something to do..." I grumbled as I passed through the mirror and back down into my darkness.

---

Christine

---

I closed my eyes briefly before knocking on Meg's door. I didn't want to yell at her first thing though I was not promising myself that I would not.

She answered and all thoughts of yelling at her flew out of my head. Her cheek was reddish purple and her eye was puffy.

"Oh Meg!" I reached for her, "Are you alright?"

"Christine!" her lips trembled and she threw herself into my embrace. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed and I shuffled us into her room so we could close the door. "I never think before acting, I'm such a stupid silly girl..."

"Hush," I pet her head lovingly, wondering how I was able to show her this love when last night I had been so angry at her. I still was a little but if Erik had saved her from the man who did this to her face then I couldn't really blame her for being overly grateful.

"Oh God, he's never going to talk to me again! You should have seen his face. He was so disgusted with me...." she dissolved into tears and I drew her down to her bed where she buried her face in my lap and continued to cry.

"You are making it very difficult to be angry with you," I sighed and Meg looked up with a sniffle.

"How angry are you?"

"Very," I gave her my best disappointed face, "Do you think behavior like that is acceptable? You are my best friend, Meg, my sister!" I took a deep breath as I felt the anger towards her pour forth. "Erik is mine, and now I can't help but think that you would try to take him from me."

"No no no," she shook her head wildly. "I don't want him. He's yours! I know it. I don't even care. I don't want him."

"Then why did you kiss my fiancé?"

She covered her face, "It was so stupid of me, I just..." she trailed off and I was impatient to hear her side.

"What?" I crossed my arms and then uncrossed them, knowing that it made compassion harder if you closed yourself off like that.

"Christine...Erik is my guardian angel." There was a heavy pause where my brows were raised and she gathered her thoughts. "My father died before we came here, Maman took the job with the opera because she needed the money. We'd already sold everything we owned, plus our house out from under us...all because...I was dying as well."

"What?" I was taken aback and her sad teary blue eyes found mine.

"I was. The medication was expensive...is expensive, and her job wasn't enough. When she suddenly had tons of money I pestered her until she told me that Le Phantom had provided it." She took my hands in hers, her eyes shining with tears. "Imagine what that is like Christine, to know a mysterious unknown man has saved your life and asked nothing from you. The one day I bumped into him I was so tongue tied I couldn't even say thank you and now I know him and see how wonderful he is with you and I wish I could be so lucky to find a man like him..." she looked away, her shoulders rounding down. "I'm so sorry, Christine. I've always wanted to thank Erik but never really had a chance and he just kept doing more and more for me until saying just the words seemed pitifully inadequate. And now I've upset you both..." tears spilled from her eyes once more and I brought her head to my shoulder.

"Meghan..."

"I'm so sorry Christine, you weren't mad at him were you? He didn't DO anything. He kept saying he had to go find you and I acted like a whore when I don't even love him that way..."

"But you do love him?" I asked softly and her arms came around me.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for that."

"I do love him, Christine, he's my friend and my shadowy guardian but I don't get a thrill in my stomach when he's around like when Cameron kissed my fingers."

I couldn't help smiling at that. "I did wonder what you were thinking while you were being so uncharacteristically quiet..."

She sprang back from me with excitement in her puffy eyes, "He's so handsome, Christine, and so polite but so sad looking. My heart ached for him when I saw him in his chair but I can't wait to hear him play. Do you think he likes me?" hope burned in her eyes.

"I don't know, I'm not really well enough acquainted with him to speculate."

Her lip jutted out, "You could have lied and said yes."

I laughed and drew her into my arms again, "Oh Meg, I didn't want to be angry with you but I was. Very much so. You just can't do things like that and expect no consequences."

"I know," she spoke soberly, her voice muffled in my shoulder. "I should never have slept with Albert but I did and now this is my consequence," she gestured to her face. "I'm sorry, Christine."

"Apology accepted," I held her tight for a moment and then she looked at the time.

"I have to go," Meg began wiping her face, "Maman and I are taking a few of the girls to church."

"I am coming as well," I folded my hands in my lap, glad that things had been all cleared up before we left.

Meg smiled brightly and then winced, touching her face gently. "I keep forgetting...funny how it hurts less to cry then to smile..." she smiled faintly.

"I love you, Meghan," I thought she needed to hear it and her face trembled.

"I love you too, Christine."

We left for church hand in hand and my world felt in balance once more.


	50. Retaliation

**Author's note: WOW! 50 chapters!?! Can you believe it? And yet there is still so much story.... ****:D**

**Enjoy!**

---

Erik

---

Christine was back from church by noon and we left right away for Nadir's. I'd left a small bottle of my concocted bruise tincture in Meg's room with the necessary instructions and managed to finish drawing what may end up being the ground floor of our home.

When we arrived, Berou answered the door and did his usual job of ignoring me completely and helping Christine with her jacket. She asked where Nadir was, probably because she knew I would not and he instructed her to check the conservatory. We found him there reading a paper in the afternoon sun and he put it down as soon as we darkened the doorway.

"Erik, Christine, I wasn't expecting you until later," he rose awkwardly and Christine easily walked into his embrace.

"We wanted to spend the day with you and not just eat and run," I explained, though I had often ate and ran before.

"Wonderful," he beamed at us both. "What's that you have, Erik?" he nodded towards the roll of house plans.

"The first rough sketches of our house," Christine turned excitedly.

"Our house?" her eyes glowed with happiness and I smiled at my beloved.

"Our house," I confirmed.

"Can I see them?" she was giddy as a child but I wanted it to be a surprise when it was all done.

"A mason never reveals his plans," I pinched her cheek lightly and moved to put the roll on the top of the liquor cabinet for now. I would ride out to the site a little later before the sun went down.

I turned back and Christine had a pout on her lips and was staring up at the roll of paper. "So you will tempt me with the idea of our very own home but not allow me even a glimmer of its excellence?"

"Yes, my dear, that is exactly my intention," Nadir rolled his eyes at me and Christine did too.

We settled into seats and Nadir asked if I'd met with Bernard yet, Christine told us about her morning at the cathedral, I informed them both of my plans with Cameron to purchase the opera house and Nadir looked pleased.

"That's wonderful, Erik, now you can display not only your talented wife but your own music as well."

"That reminds me..." I cleared my throat and glanced at Christine for fortification. Nadir had advised me to have a long engagement for optimum growth of our relationship, which I agreed with at the time, but I could never deny my angel what she wanted and she apparently wanted me quickly. "Christine and I have decided to be married in January."

"So soon?" he quirked his brow at me and a few other questions were swirling in his eyes.

"We do not wish to wait and since Christine will be the new star once we take over, I do not want people to think she is available in any way, shape or form."

He nodded but refrained from saying anything. The first awkward lull enveloped us in silence and I knew he didn't approve of our decision. Well, that was just too bad because Christine was the one who wanted to rush into it and I was never going to argue with her about fully making her mine.

"I will let you know when the date approaches." My comment allowed for no argument and a small smile curled his lips.

"I would like to be there." He looked ready to laugh now and I sighed as I relaxed into the chair. Why did I always sit so straight? It felt nice to let the muscle go once in awhile.

The conversation turned to more frivolous things as Christine asked what we would do for Christmas and Nadir and I looked at each other in bewilderment. I'd never actually celebrated Christmas and neither had he, due to his own religious beliefs. We both shrugged and told her we would do whatever she liked. She clapped her hands and asked if she could be excused. She hurried from the room and Nadir watched her go.

"She looks radiantly happy, Erik."

"Did you doubt I would make her so?"

"No," he looked over with annoyance, "Why must you be so negative? I was merely pointing out how happy she is...how happy you both are when you are together."

I shifted in embarrassment feeling like a small rebuked boy. "Thank you for your help last night."

"That's what father's are for," he said easily and I met his sparkling green eyes as a smile grew over my face.

---

Christine

---

I made my way to the kitchen to speak to the cook. It was time Molly and I spoke, seeing as neither one of us were going anywhere.

I knocked lightly on the open door frame as I walked in.

"Do you have a moment?" Molly's head whipped around and she quickly wiped her hands on her apron.

"Mlle Daae," she bowed her head, "Can I get you something?"

"No, I only need a quick moment of your time," I smiled to try to ease her tension.

"I owe you an apology for my behavior." Her head was still bowed and I wanted to say not to worry but I held my tongue. I did deserve an apology from her. "I am very sorry if I upset you." I waited for more but that was all she said. She obviously still had misgivings about Erik.

"I was upset, but it is in the past, I would like to move on from it?" I wanted her co-operation so I was willing to forgive her for what she had said about Erik even if she was not sorry for saying it.

She looked up and her shiny black eyes traveled over my face. "You look happy?" she was hesitant and I hated that I made her so uncomfortable.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I smiled easily. "It's a beautiful day, I heard a magnificent choir sing, and I just was told I could do whatever I wanted for Christmas." I wanted to add that my fiancee was planning a spectacular house for us but I would save that for Meg. Molly probably wouldn't like to hear anything about Erik if she was scared he would do something like suck out her soul.

A tentative smile began to curl her mouth, "What do you plan to do?"

I conspired with Molly for about twenty minutes before leaving with a wave and thanks.

"I will make sure we have everything you need," she promised as I left and I fairly flew back to the conservatory. Nadir was sitting alone and informed me that Erik had taken his horse for a ride. I glanced up at the cabinet and saw that the roll of papers was gone. I flopped into the chair, crossing my arms in annoyance and he laughingly told me that if I could gleen any information from Erik before he was ready to tell it that I should become a miracle worker instead of an opera singer .

"Shouldn't I help plan the house?" I complained, "How many children will he plan for?"

"Have you spoken of children?" he looked at me curiously and I blushed and fiddled with my skirts.

"Briefly..." I studied the ground for a minute and then looked out the windows into the gardens letting my embarrassment fade.

"Forgive me Christine, I come from a brash people..."

"No, don't apologize, I get embarrassed easily," I blushed even more now, proving my point.

"Nothing would make me happier than to see Erik with a child. I hope some day Allah blesses you with many healthy children." Nadir smiled and so did I at the thought of Erik covered in excited children. The image made me want to grin girlishly but I looked back outside wondering if a glimpse of him could be caught.

An entire hour slowly moved by with small talk with Nadir and he tried to show me how to play chess but I was not a quick study with that game. He showed me a different game where he placed different sized coins on the board and we jumped each other's coins to try to gain the opposite side of the board. It was a fun game and Nadir was an enjoyable companion to waste time with but I kept glancing outside wondering how long Erik would be. I just knew he'd gone out to the site where our home would sit. I so wanted to go with him to see the site untouched before he transformed it into our home...

I wasted some time playing a few simple piano pieces for Nadir and when Erik returned just after sundown I pretended not to notice and kept playing my music. He, of course, foiled me by coming close and hovering over my shoulder until I could not concentrate on the keys. I stopped playing and pouted at him and from his grin he knew exactly why I was pouting and he kissed my temple lightly.

"I want you to see it with finished walls, not a 2 dimensional messy drawing that could never do it justice."

"You watched the sun go down from where our home will be," his smile turned sheepish.

"It will make you happy, I swear it, my heart," his eyes burned down at me.

"I know it will make me happy then but for now I'm left in the dark," I sighed and played a few scales before losing interest in the piano and turning to Erik. "Don't forget to make room for my garden."

"A garden?"

I nodded and moved from the piano to sit near Nadir. He was watching us openly, an amused smile curling his mouth.

"You didn't forget that I need a garden?" I queried with concern, wondering if he would let me in on the secret of our home if he thought he needed my help.

"There is room for one but I did not think you would have time for one."

"Perhaps not now but if there is room for one then that is perfect for later." I smoothed my skirts and smiled demurely at him and his eyes narrowed.

"Do you really want a garden?"

"Of course, I want to plant vegetables and flowers and maybe even an apple tree or a plum tree..."

Erik was looking at Nadir and Nadir was trying not to chuckle as I went on and on about everything I wanted, just to make sure he had thought of it. He seemed to be logging away every bit of information I was spewing out and I finally relented, thinking I may begin to sound spoiled if I continued to list every detail of my dream home. I just knew that if ever all my dreams would come true it was this man that could do it.

After a large four course dinner Erik sat at the piano and I was drawn to his side like I was his marionette. I was full and slightly sleepy from the amount of food I had consumed but I swayed to his music for awhile before I started humming along. My throat felt a little sore but one of the dishes had an odd spice in it and I dismissed it. When I started to sing I had to push harder than usual and I found that odd. My voice cracked on a higher note and the piano fell into ominous silence.

---

Erik

---

We left shortly after that, with apologies to Nadir, and I wrapped my cloak around Christine and hussled her into the carriage.

"I'm fine, Erik," she said with more than a note of exasperation in her voice.

"I can hear the thickness in your voice," I was angry and worried and my voice rang with command. "You are no longer allowed to speak."

Her mouth opened to say something and I glared at her. She crossed her arms in obvious agitation and glared right back at me.

"Not only did you not inform me that your throat hurt but you tried to sing over it and could have caused permanent damage to your vocal chords." Her lips pursed outward but she remained silent and her glare lessened. "You are supposed to tell me these things. I would never have allowed you to sing knowing you were coming down with a cold."

"I'm not...."

"Shhh!" I cut her off sharply and she huffed and turned away from me angrily, as I continued. "It is obvious you have caught a cold. Your voice is thick, your hands are chilled and your skin is paler than usual. You will go straight to bed, in my bed, and I will bring you hot tea and a tonic for your broken music box." She started to turn around.

"You are..." I stopped her with a finger on her lips.

"If you say one more word I will also spank you when we arrive home." She turned back around with an exaggerated huff. She ignored me the rest of the way to the opera house and my anger dwindled and faded. She could have damaged her voice but seeing her so unwilling to look at me hurt my heart. You are the idiot that started yelling at her and told her she cannot speak and got angry at her for even trying to sing.

"Would you rather go to your dressing room?" I asked sadly, knowing it would be my own fault if she agreed but she whipped around with wide eyes.

"No, but I would like permission to speak," she said with annoyance painted on her pretty face.

"Well, it appears you will speak without my permission," I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, "Do I honestly need your permission? I only stayed silent to try to appease you but it is wholly ridiculous to demand I do not speak."

"Your future career is ridiculous?" What was I doing? Was I trying to fight with her?

"No Erik! Argh! You can be so ...so..."

"Obtuse?" I offered, remembering Cameron's description of me.

"If the shoe fits..." she waved her hand and huffed into her cross-armed position again.

"What do my shoes have to do with anything?"

"What?" she looked over, completely bewildered, and then after a moment burst out laughing. I watched her mirth, glad to see it but completely lost. "If the shoe fits...it's a saying..." she managed betweens fits of giggles. "If the shoe fits you, then you wear it...just like your apt description of yourself..." she finished giggling and then sighed and snaked her arms around mine to settle her head on my shoulder. "I don't want to fight with you," she said softly, "If you don't want me to speak, I won't."

I sighed myself, I didn't want to be a domineering dictator, forcing her into servitude, silence and compromising positions alike. I wanted to let it go but again she hadn't told me of her ailment. "How am I to take care of you if I do not know when something is wrong?"

"Even I didn't know anything was wrong with me. You never gave me chance to tell you I only noticed my sore throat when we started singing. I thought it was from eating that strange spice."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to fight with her, I wanted to take her home and take her to bed and tuck her in and take care of her. "Well, since we now know that you are under the weather, can I take care of you? Will you take my advice to speak as little as possible?"

"That was advice?" she muttered and then sighed heartily. "Yes, Erik, on both counts."

"If your throat worsens you cannot attend rehearsal tomorrow."

"Oh," she brought a hand to her throat.

"We will decide in the morning."

Nothing more was said as we made our way down below. We held hands though, and it made me feel she had forgiven me for being such a dictator. I brewed her a special tonic to soothe her throat and once she was tucked into bed with her tea and her hair neatly braided and a book on her lap I pondered if I should make my difficult house call now. It was still early enough and then I wouldn't have to go tomorrow. The sooner I did it was also the better. I couldn't let it be thought that behavior like that would be accepted.

Decision made, I sat next to Christine on the bed and told her I would be going out for a short while.

"Where are you going?"

"I have some important business to take care of. Will you be alright without me?" she rolled her eyes which I took to be a yes.

"When will you return?" her golden eyes searched mine and I could not resist playing my fingers down her cheek.

"Not too late, will you wait up?" she smiled.

"I'll try. Wake me if I fall asleep though. I want to know when you are home."

"Alright pet," I leaned in and kissed her sweet mouth. "No getting out of bed," I reminded her as I rose.

"Yes dear," she intoned and I smiled as I left my bedroom.

Getting to the De Changy house was easy but in the carriage I started thinking of that toad touching my angel again and my anger began to simmer. I stood on the doorstep for about ten minutes, trying to collect my thoughts, reign in my anger and set in my mind what I would say and how this would transpire. I finally rang the bell and the butler answered and informed me that senior De Changy was not home but that was not acceptable for me.

"When is he expected to return, I can wait," I offered and the butler hesitated.

"He can see no one at the moment."

"So he is here?" I asked, beginning to lose patience already.

"He is bedridden and cannot have visitors," he was getting flustered and I pushed my way in.

"Take me to see him."

"Monsieur!" I grimaced at the butler and he backed up.

"What is your name?" I asked sweetly, curling my evil tongue in that persuasive manner.

"Rene..."

"Rene." I repeated and watched his eyes lose focus. "Take me to see M. De Changy now," I forced my will on him and he blinked and nodded and turned. I congratulated myself on not getting angry but I was being very bad and rude, not that I particularly cared about their butler, as long as he gave me what I wanted.

He led me to a bedchamber and opened the door. Mr. De Changy looked up from a paper as I entered and his face flushed a dark red. He was in bed though clothed respectably, his leg propped up on a mountain of pillows and encased in plaster.

"Rene! What is the meaning of this?" he called for his butler but he was already heading away from us.

I bowed politely and removed my hat, "Monsieur De Changy forgive my rude intrusion but there is something we must discuss."

"Monsieur Karan, as you can see I am bedridden and..."

"I see your leg is broken but surely your ears and tongue are not?" he looked annoyed and embarrassed and I came a little closer as he tossed down his paper.

"What is so important that Rene let you in here without so much as a by your leave?"

"Your son has assaulted Christine again." He shook himself slightly.

"What?"

"I see now that you are unable to keep him away but if you do not, then I will be forced to." Was it bad that I was threatening his son's life right away? Probably, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I forbid him from visiting the opera..."

"Words are only that, Monsieur. I find actions much more telling..."

"Is Christine alright?" I was glad that he cared enough to ask.

"Yes, but I am becoming tired of seeing her cry because of your son. If he comes near her again I will take it upon myself to keep him back."

His eyes narrowed, "Are you threatening me?"

"You?" I laughed shortly, "No, I am threatening Raoul. Keep him away from Christine or I will." I turned to leave and the door burst open admitting Raoul to his father's bedroom.

"Father? Rene said a strange man..." Raoul trailed off as his eyes landed on me. "What are you doing here?" hatred burned into his eyes and dripped from his words and I felt my anger coiling like a snake.

"Can you not think of any reason at all?" sarcasm rolled from my tongue as I let him see that I hated him just as much as he did me.

"Should I call the police, father?" his voice trembled and I had to keep from laughing in an evil manner.

"Raoul, come here this instant!" senior De Changy bellowed from the bed.

Raoul skirted around me and I turned to watch the show. Father and son both were looking at me but then looked at each other and one turned white while the other turned even more red.

"It's true, isn't it? You disobeyed me and went after her again."

"Father, she is meant to be with me..."

"She is not yours! She never will be! Over my dead body will you marry someone so beneath you."

My anger surged forth before Raoul could even respond, "How dare you speak of her in that manner?" I hissed.

"Please Monsieur," he held up one hand to stop me but Raoul cut him off dramatically.

"Christine is an angel! Don't say she's beneath me. I'm beneath her!" he backed up from the bed.

"Young man..." Mr. De Changy's tone was ominous.

"She is supposed to be mine but you keep pushing her into the arms of that freak!"

"Raoul Germaine De Changy, I have had it with your obsession over her. You are to forget Christine Daae ever existed! I will tan your hide like you are an infant if I hear you have set foot in the Opera Garnier!"

I was trying not to laugh now and thought it might be a good time to leave but Raoul glanced over at me.

"This is your fault," he whispered and I quirked my brow at him. "You don't deserve my fairy! You've tricked her somehow..."

"I've tricked her into falling in love with me?" I asked just to be certain.

"She doesn't love you," he sneered and I laughed out loud.

"That is not what she said when I left her to come here." Raoul's face contorted.

"I hate you!" he roared and charged at me like an enraged bull. No skill, no slight, just feet clomping, hands outstretched like he meant to choke me, or tickle me into submission judging from the angle. I sidestepped him easily and dumped him on the ground in a heap.

"Raoul!" his father was shocked and pushing himself up awkwardly to see over the bulk of pillows. I tried not to smirk at the poor boy but I did not succeed. One look at my face and he sprang up from the ground for another try.

"Rargh!" he threw himself at me and I deflected him again, except this time I grabbed his clothing and used his momentum to toss him a little harder and into one of the armchairs so that he hit it, knocked it over and tumbled over it with legs and arms flailing.

I was finding this extremely satisfying for the low level of violence but Raoul obviously wanted to do me serious harm because as he rose I saw his hand deftly reach down to his boot. His father did not notice as he yelled and struggled with his broken leg on the bed but senior De Changy's voice faded from my ears.

I shifted my stance as my opponent concealed the knife in his fist.

Little puke wants a real fight?

Well, I'd be happy to oblige...

---

Christine

---

My sleep was disturbed by a splattering noise. I opened my eyes but the noise disappeared and I rolled over in bed wondering if I'd dreamed the sound. I found a comfortable position and was nodding off when I heard it again. It was a strange muffled splattery sound and seemed to come from...

I sat up and looked for evidence of Erik's return. Was he home? Who else could be here using his cold water shower? But he promised to wake me. I tossed off the covers and hurried to the washroom. I quietly opened the door and peeked in. His clothes were on the ground except for his pants which he still wore. The slim vee of his back was pale and scarred and muscular and I enjoyed the sight of him for a moment while I wondered why he was showering with his pants on. He bent to grab some rag from his feet and I heard him hiss gently. I came forward and he finally noticed me.

"Go back to bed," he said sharply and my feet froze at his harsh tone.

"You promised to wake me," I found the courage to speak but he would not turn.

"Go to bed. I will come shortly," he tried to relax his voice but now I knew something was wrong. I walked to his side and that is when I finally saw the blood on the floor and on his hands and on the rag where he held it to his stomach.

"Erik!" I reached to take his hands to check how injured he was. "Oh my lord what happened?"

"Leave it," he tried to deflect my attempts but his were half hearted and I instantly worried he was weak from blood loss. I fetched the stool and made him sit while he said he was fine and it was just a scrape and not to worry. When I finally pried his hands away I determined he was mostly right. He would be fine but it was not just a scrape. Someone had cut him from navel to ribs up one side of his stomach. It was not too deep but it looked awful.

"Does it need to be stitched?" I asked from my knees in front of him and he laughed hollowly, sending a shiver down my spine. "How did this happen?" I tried a different question and he shrugged.

"Raoul was mad at me."

"Mad?" my head spun slightly as I realized he had gone to the De Changy's. Because I was too trusting, Erik had almost been cut in half and anger at myself and at Raoul surged forward. "More like insane! How dare he assault you! Will you contact the police?"

"Oh no, no," he smiled faintly. "I let him do this."

"What?" I wondered if I had heard him right.

"I let him cut me."

"Why in the world would you be so stupid?" I asked, my anger shifting to him.

A slow smile curled his mouth, "Because then I got to retaliate..."

"What is wrong with you?" I slapped his knee, "You could have been gutted!"

"Please," he waved his hand and rolled his eyes, "You think I'm not skilled enough to make things look good. His father was watching and I couldn't break his nose just for saying ugly things and running at me..."

"Break his nose?"

"Oh yes," that slow smile returned, "I've wanted to since I first met him..." he stared off at the wall before shaking himself. "So when he pulled out his knife and charged at me, I let him cut me and then I had every right to punch him in the face."

"You could have been killed!" I worried and his eyes glittered down at me. I wondered if he was delirious, until he spoke.

"You forget my skill in this department..." his voice whisked strangely in my ears and I swallowed hard.

"You never know what can happen in a fight. That degenerate has already proven he has no honour." I tried again to make him see the seriousness.

"The Deathbringer remains undefeated..." his eyes were seeing distant things and blood was still trickling from his wound so I decided to end the useless conversation.

"Hush Erik, let me bind this for you." I stood and retrieved the necessary items to clean and care for his wound. I worked silently, not meeting his eye and he finally broke the silence.

"Where did you learn to be a nursemaid?" his voice sounded normal again and I answered him easily.

"Papa was somewhat accident prone. He would trip and scrape and bump himself constantly. I had to learn to either hook the horse to our wagon and drive him the two hours to the closest town or bind his wounds myself." I was smiling at memories of Papa's clumsiness but I noticed my knees were cold and saw that Erik's blood had soaked into my night gown. "You've lost a lot of blood..."

"I'm fine," he scoffed and I stayed silent, angry that he was so cavaliere with his health, but also satisfied that Raoul had been hurt. That satisfaction burned oddly in my stomach. I knew it was not very Christian of me to feel that way but as I made sure the long slice in Erik's abdomen was clean of particles I did not care. Now my love would bear another scar on his already riddled body. I wrapped the clean stripped cotton around him firmly, keeping my eyes on the task to keep my emotions in check. He whispered thank you when I finished and I nodded and started gathering things from the floor. I had blood on my hands and quickly began washing them in the basin I had fetched. I could feel Erik watching me and I had to breathe carefully to keep from falling into a sniveling heap of tears.

My Erik was not indestructible. He could be injured. He could be bled and could very well be killed. With others judging him by his face and acting out at the fear of the unknown I could easily lose him. I picked up his clothing from the ground and saw his blood soaked shirt with an already tightening throat.

When would this man understand that I just wanted to hide away with him forever?

I approached him where he still sat on the stool and found him with his eyes closed, swaying slightly. I put my hands on him to steady him and he flinched. I ignored it and the tears that were pressing forward and brushed the hair from his forehead.

"How do you feel?" I searched his eyes.

"Tired..." and he looked it.

"Why don't you lie down and I'll finish cleaning up."

"Alright," he stood slowly with one hand over the injury. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you. I thought the sight of...I'm sorry Christine," his head bowed in apology. One more broken promise between us...

I cupped his cheek and placed a soft kiss by his mouth.

"I understand why," I wanted to say more, that he should trust my strength but I let him leave to go lie down.

I surveyed his blood on the ground and angrily yanked the water chain and began helping the blood down the drain.

Of all the idiotic things for him to go and do...fighting with Raoul...Erik could have taken him, I was sure of it, but instead he allows Raoul to best him so he can hurt him back. Childish antics from a grown man...

And I was happy he'd done it. As long as he healed well then I would remain happy about it. What a strange thing to be happy for?

By the time I finished cleaning up and changed my night clothes Erik was asleep. I worried he would dream without his laudanum or he could have a seizure which would not be good with that cut in his side....

But what could I do at this point? Wake him up to make him take a sedative to help him go to sleep?

I slid next to him and found him naked beneath the blanket. My face flushed but I reasoned his pants would have been wet and probably bloodied and pulling on a new pair would have been difficult with his injury. Why was I even embarrassed to find him so? I removed his pants last night and ordered him to remove them before that...

I shook my head at my silliness and carefully wrapped my arm around his bandaged middle and curled up beside my lover.

---

Erik

---

I woke and could not recall getting into bed. Christine was folded against me like a second skin and I tried not to wake her as I shifted my arm. My side pulled and the pain reminded me.

Raoul....

I sneered at nothing and recalled the satisfaction of feeling his nose break, seeing his tears held in check as blood ran down his face, his father begging me to keep this between only us and then my angel who attended me so confidently and maturely. I let my fingers roam over the thick braid of hair. I wished she could leave it out and loose at night so it could fan over us both like a gossamer cloak to keep us hidden and protected from the world above...

I sighed and Christine snuggled into me. A smile curled my mouth and I relaxed back into my pillow and into heaven's arms...


	51. New Possibilities

**Author's note: Forgive me for the longer than usual wait between chapters. I have had some personal tragedy and it makes it difficult to find my muse. I reiterate my promise though, to not ever abandon my story. It will be finished! Though not for some time, there is still so much to tell!**

**Thanks for staying with me. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

---

Erik

---

The field was lush with tall grasses and the air smelled of flowers and apples. There were houses far in the distance but I did not recognize them. I turned a circle and spied the apple tree, that was surely providing the scent, laden with fruit and my stomach growled.

Laughter spilled from below me and I looked down to find Christine laying in the grass at my feet, naked and smiling. Her hair was longer, almost past her knees and the honeyed colour was brilliant in the summer sun. She reached out to me with her arms and eyes and I went eagerly.

"What were you looking for, my love?" she cooed before my lips tasted hers.

"Sustenance..." I growled and she wiggled her body under mine languidly.

"Mmmm..." she stretched and reached out for something, bringing a bright red apple out from the grass. "Would you like a bite?" she fluttered her lashes.

I opened my mouth and bit down into the hard juicy flesh. The taste was divine and I closed my eyes to savour it as I chewed. A trickle of juice spilled from the corner of my mouth and I felt Christine arch upward and her tongue lapped up the spilled juice from my face.

"Do you want more?" she purred seductively and I was about to answer yes, though whether I meant the apple or her, I was not sure, but the sky suddenly darkened and we pulled apart. Her golden eyes and hair took on a gray tone as the sun was lost behind a cloud.

"We should go in before it rains," I heard myself say.

"What about the others?" she asked worriedly, sitting up to look around us.

"Others?"

The grass swayed and I could just barely see people walking towards us. It was suddenly so dark, that I could not make them out.

"How many others?" I asked counting the bodies I could see. The closest one was a woman, tall, curved and naked. I felt my face heat at the sight of this naked stranger.

"As many as you want," Christine kissed my neck and wrapped her legs around me as the next girl came close enough. She was petite with dark hair and also naked. I averted my eyes as she knelt beside us and began trailing her hands over my back. Two more ladies joined us, their hands skimming over me as Christine nibbled and kissed my jaw and neck.

"Christine..." I felt my body tightening as another pair of hands began exploring my flesh.

"How many do you want?" she whispered in my ear. "Do you want more?"

I jerked awake. My body was pulsing with awareness and I felt Christine waking beside me.

"Erik?" her hands swept up my torso gently and I closed my eyes. As far as my dreams went, that one was easier to deal with then the others but it had left me incredibly aroused and I burned to make love to my goddess right this moment.

"Good morning pet," I pulled her close and pain ripped through my side. I wasn't about to let it stop me from holding Christine though and I tried to bring her on top of me but she was pulling away and sitting up.

"You'll hurt yourself," she seemed worried and started checking my bandages. I didn't mind having her hands on me instead, so I put my arms behind my head, which was not the smartest thing to do, and felt the length of the slice pulling open under the pressure of the bandage. "Put your arms down!" she pulled on them in a panic and I obeyed her as I finally managed to pull her down onto me.

"Calm down, I'm fine," I nuzzled my lips under her ear and she squirmed on top of me.

"You'll open your wound." Her hips moved erotically in her efforts to get off.

"Ma chardonnerette...please stop that..." I groaned in her ear, wrapping her tightly in my arms and her movements stopped. Her chest rose and fell on mine for a few silent seconds and then her body relaxed.

"You are probably bleeding now..." she complained softly as her hands settled on me.

"Shhh," I cooed and then held her warm soft body on mine for a timeless time. I could feel her warm even breathing, our bodies beating as one, the feeling of utter completion just having her with me. "I want only you," I whispered to my softly snoring angel.

---

Christine

---

I was not permitted to go to rehearsal on Monday. Erik made me write a note to the managers telling them I was ill and not permitted to sing and would hopefully return by Tuesday. I added in a large apology because I felt like I was causing them nothing but problems and Erik scoffed when he read it over.

"As if it even matters..." he mumbled and I huffed.

"They have had nothing but trouble because of me."

"Trouble maybe, but money as well, do not forget," he wagged a finger at me and then frowned. "You are still on limited speech today."

"And you should be on limited movement," I tried to coax him closer. "Let me check your bindings," but he waved my hands off.

"I will let you check them later. I must deliver this." He left quickly without even kissing me and I pouted in bed for awhile before getting up to go to the washroom.

I dressed for a day spent down here by the fire and looked over his wall of books for something interesting. I remembered that beautifully bound book in his bedroom and went to fetch it. Kama Sutra was an elegant name for a religious book and I flipped it open to a page of illustrations. I studied the page for a few seconds before realizing what I was looking at and slammed the book shut and put it back like it was hot to the touch.

I was too embarrassed to even think of asking Erik about it and when he returned, I made sure my nose was buried in another book. The graphic detailed painting of two people in a very intimate embrace had made blood flush my cheeks and warm my nether regions. All I thought of was Erik and I in such a position and I could not even look at him for the better part of the morning. He apparently had work to do because he did not pester me or try to get my attention and when I went searching for him, close to lunch time, I found him in his laboratory with his shirt off, twisting his torso back and forth.

"What are you doing?" I screeched and he jumped and spun around.

"Christine," he'd removed his bandage and the angry red slice in his side was visible to me. It wasn't bleeding terribly or even gaping at all and I came closer.

"Have you healed already?" I scrutinized the sliced area, looking for signs that this wound was only hours old.

"I glued it together." I didn't even have a response for that. I just stared at him, incredulous and then turned on my heel.

"I'm going to make lunch."

I was blindingly angry at him and couldn't understand why. He did lie about that book and now I was embarrassed that I'd looked at it and even more embarrassed that I'd imagined my face over the woman's. But I wasn't angry just from that. I was angry that he'd glued his wound together. Which was the silliest thing to be angry over. Gluing it would null any chance of dirt getting into it and would probably save it from becoming infected and speed the process by helping the skin knit back together more efficiently. He could move better now too. I guess I just wanted him to see how serious his actions were and maybe if he had to live with the discomfort of a long slice wound then he wouldn't be so rash next time and allow someone close enough to injure him, no matter how badly he wanted to break that person's nose. But he was smarter than that. He would never live with any discomfort.

"Can I help?" he asked softly from over my shoulder.

"Could you put some water on?" I kept my eyes on the knife in my hands and he slowly moved around me. When I turned with a plate of sliced bread, cheese and left over cold meats, I saw the single red rose laying on the table where I usually sat.

"I'm sorry I worried you with my injury," his voice came softly in my ear as he hovered behind me. "But believe me, my darling, I've had a hundred times worse than this tiny scratch." I looked over my shoulder at him, sad but happy, angry and yet not. I put down the plate and turned straight into his arms.

---

Erik

---

We lazed about all the rest of the day, talking of many things, my head in her lap while she played with my hair. It was a wonderful sensation, having someone run their fingers through your hair over and over, teasing the scalp and flipping the strands this way and that. Of course, it further assured me that I was some kind of panting canine that I so enjoyed to have my fur ruffled. I took my laudanum that night and slept an even ten hours, waking to the sight of Christine's hand hovering in the air over her face, her eyes riveted to her sparkling engagement ring.

I checked her throat after an extensive warming up period and deemed her well enough to go to rehearsal.

"I told you I wasn't sick," she bragged as we donned our cloaks to make the trek upstairs.

I watched the rehearsal from box 5 and made mental notes about all the employees, which ones we would keep and which would be let go, which ones may get promoted or demoted as it were. Even though I planned to allow Cameron to be the face of the business I would not let him ride over me, I had genuine input seeing as I'd practically run this damn place for the last two years.

Later in Christine's dressing room she asked to spend the night with Meghan to prepare for tomorrow evening.

"What is there to prepare?" I asked in annoyance. I wanted my angel beside me every night.

Christine patted my cheek and said I wouldn't understand. I pulled her roughly into my embrace and dominated her mouth, angry that I was not getting my way, and then released her to watch the vacant pleased look in her eye before she shook her head and focused on me again.

"Erik," she chided, her delicate brow furrowing in disapproval.

"Can I not kiss you whenever I like? My future wife, my lover, my heart, my soul, my..."

"Enough," she held up one hand to stop me and then threw them both around my neck. I caught her easily and stared into her smiling eyes. "Well?" her brows rose.

"Well what?" a smile tugged my lips at the glittering joy in her eyes.

She laughed, "Are you going to kiss me?" I did not have to answer her with words.

---

Christine

---

"I have nothing to wear," Meg moaned dramatically.

"We will find something," I flipped past a dark burgundy dress. "You have a lot of nice dresses, Meg."

"Yours are prettier," she pouted as she flopped onto her bed.

"You can always borrow one," I offered but she shook her head.

"What if you wear it sometime around him? One of my old smocks will do..." she threw her arm over her eyes. "It's not as if he'll even look at me twice. I have the face of a frog, all multi colored..."

"Stop being so melodramatic. It's your own fault for not using Erik's potion. It heals bruises like magic."

"Now you tell me," she muttered darkly.

"And besides, Cameron is a gentleman, even if he can't stand the sight of you he will endure it." That got her attention. She propped herself up on her elbows and glared at me.

"That is not very supportive, Christine." I laughed easily.

"I had to say something to get you to stop moaning, how about this one?" I pulled out a nice yellow one with a tufted skirt.

"No, it matches my face," she flopped back down. "I don't know what to do. Just the thought of seeing him again makes speech difficult. This is insane. He could be a psychotic, baby killer, for all I know. I don't even know him and yet I want to know him so badly that I don't even care what I will find out. Maybe I shouldn't come with you, I don't think my brain will work around him anyway. I couldn't even mutter two words together."

"It wasn't so bad...he probably thought you were shy."

"Pffft!" she blurted in a very unladylike manner and as much as it made me smile I thought I should say, "You should probably refrain from doing anything like that."

"I know!" she sat up suddenly. "But how in the world am I going to keep myself from acting like a complete fool or child or idiot when I can barely stop myself now! He'll see I'm not worth any attention..."

"Stop it," I frowned and deserted the search for the dress to sit beside her and put my arm around her. "You are beautiful and loving and have a zest for life that has more than once broken me through my doldrums. If he cannot see that in you then maybe I should tell Erik to go into business with someone else because he is obviously dense."

"Christine," she giggled and hugged me back. "Alright, let's find a dress." We pulled out every single dress in that closet before finding one that we thought suitible. It was a watery blue color that would emphasize her pretty eyes and not the fading bruise. "Do you think he can still have children?" she asked randomly as we readied for bed after bathing.

"I don't know, do you want to look through Erik's medical text for more information about paralysis?" I offered.

"That would be nice..." she trailed off as she combed out her wet hair in front of the mirror and I left to go fetch it from my room.

We poured over the small section that spoke of exercising the useless limbs.

"Who does this for him?" she asked me and I shrugged.

"His grandmother, I suppose, or maybe one of his servants," I surmised.

"No wonder he wants to get married, it should be someone intimately close, like his wife, who takes care of him..." she had that far off look in her eye and I just had to tease her.

"Are you applying for the job?" I pinched her playfully and she fended me off with a few girlish giggles before sitting to apply Erik's mixture on her face.

"Maybe...I don't know...just looking at him made me feel nervous and fluttery but so sad that I just wanted to make him laugh, like he really needed to laugh...but I also felt too stupid to be any use to him...maybe he wants a stupid girl though...who knows...thinking about all of it makes me tired..." she sighed and laid down as I climbed into my bed.

I was almost asleep when I thought I heard her sniff delicately and whisper to herself, "I really wanted children..."

---

Erik

---

I had been worried to see Meghan again. I still didn't know how she could love me. Not that I truly understood how Christine could love me, but that was a whole other issue of mine. All of my fretting though was for naught. Meg was ever herself, bubbly and smiling and cheekily complaining about Christine missing Monday's rehearsal while she poked me in the ribs like it was my fault.

I sat down on Christine's bed and rubbed the skin where I'd recently felt the sting of sharp metal. It itched, which annoyed me, but it barely hurt anymore, though I was still glad Meg had deemed to poke me in the other side. The glue was doing it's job so far and I wondered if I could make money with an idea like this. Wound Glue. Not that I really needed the money. And it would only really work for knife wounds or perhaps whip lashes...

I was waiting for the girls in Christine's room thinking these morbid things. We were ready to leave when Meg squealed and said she forgot something and Christine looked at her and exclaimed and suddenly both girls were gone. They returned much faster than I'd thought they would and I could not see any differences in Meg's attire but it was entirely possible I had not really looked closely in the first place. Christine always had the majority of my attention, especially when she looked as delicate and precious as a fairy maiden. My eyes drank down the sight of her in the off the shoulder mauve dress, her birthday necklace around her throat and my ring on her finger. Her hair was loosely braided in a large C shape that followed the contours of her head and left the end of the braid open to spill over her shoulder. I wanted to kiss the exposed slope of her neck and continue helping the braid to undo itself but instead I stiffly held out her jacket for her and she stepped into it with a small look over her shoulder at me. That look was enough to set my heart pounding and I counted the days that had gone by since I'd made love to my angel. It felt like ages ago. Another eternity to endure.

"I'm nervous," Meg whispered as the carriage slowed in front of Cameron's house, and her hand drifted unconsciously to the fading bruise on her cheek. She was not as diligent with the application of the tincture as she should of been, otherwise the bruise would have entirely faded. Now we would probably have to give an explanation for it, as much as Meg did not want Cameron to know.

"Just remember what we talked about," Christine soothed Meghan and reached out to pet her knee lovingly. "You are perfect the way you are, don't change yourself too much, you don't even know what sort of change would appeal to him so it's best to just be yourself."

Clotilda was waiting in the sitting room again, "Christine, you've returned, and with your handsome teacher, how wonderful. And who's this?" she smiled jovially at Meg and Christine introduced her because I was too startled by the random description of me being handsome. She most definitely was blind. But then, did Nadir say I was handsome the other night? No, I must be hearing things...

"This is my dearest friend, Meghan Giry."

"Lovely to meet you, dear girl. I've seen you dancing I believe? Splendid to watch, just marvelous." Clotilda smiled brightly and I squinted at her. She most certainly was blind if she could not see the yellowing bruise on Meg's cheek but she obviously recognized Meg from the stage. Clotilda's sight, or lack thereof, continued to baffle me but I bowed when she nodded at me and Meg smiled and thanked her for the compliment.

I could see Meg warming to her instantly, they were very similar the two of them, both liable to spew any number of things from their mouths at any given moment, and just radiating a friendly energy. The two of them would probably cause all sorts of trouble.

Meg glanced at Christine and I, "Do I call you Countess or...?"

"Just Clotilda or even Tilly," she waved her hand and motioned for us to follow her. "Cameron didn't want you to wait in this stuffy room, let us go to the music room."

"May I?" I stepped up to Clotilda's side and offered my arm, not wanting the half blind old woman to fall or go the wrong direction. She giggled like a young lady and laid her withered fingers on my arm.

"Why thank you, good sir. Lead on."

I saw Christine link arms with Meg as we walked through the halls to the music room and I felt like this was right, this was how a normal man would act and feel. Clotilda's old fingers were gentle on my arm and I felt no threat allowing her to touch me. She obviously had no qualms about my evil soul, perhaps only certain people could sense it. There wasn't really a book to read about it and I'd never really spent time with any other people other than Nadir and I hadn't thought it could actually be pleasant or even happen so easily. I just assumed no one would want to look at me so why even give them the opportunity. Alternately, apparently people could be around me and not want to hurt me, which was a nice change.

We sat around the fireplace and Clotilda started her random amusing chatter asking Christine what she liked about being a prima donna and what Meg enjoyed best about dancing. The conversation rolled on without any input from myself and I just enjoyed being present for a frivolous chatter between the three ladies.

"When the music starts, it fills me with the power to do anything," Meg gushed.

"It's the same for me," Christine exclaimed. "Especially when Erik plays..." she glanced at me under her lashes and set my heart tripping again.

"I adore when Cameron plays for me, it's the only time I feel like he is happy anymore..." Clotilda mussed.

"Cameron is a marvelous piano player," Christine complimented. "I cannot believe he's never pursued a career in music."

"He did," Clotilda looked upset, "But when our family perished...he abandoned his music for a long time."

My mind perked at the knowledge she was sharing with us. Is this where his dislike of a music career came from?

"How did your family die?" Christine rested her hand on Clotilda's knee, offering comfort with her gentle touch.

"In a fire...they...forgive me..." she put her hand over her mouth for a moment and Meg moved to comfort her with Christine.

"If it's too painful to speak of then consider the question unasked," Christine offered.

"No, you are Cameron's new friends, and business partner, I hear," she smiled for me and took a deep breath, composing herself. "My husband, Richard, was chair bound as well, it was how we knew what was happening to Cameron. Our son, Geoffrey, was home when the fire broke out and his beautiful Isabel and Cameron's younger brother, Broderick...they tried to get Richard out and the floor collapsed..." Christine and Meg both touched her as she relived those terrible moments. "I was safe outside when the whole house fell in on them and Cameron was away...pursuing his music."

It was obvious to me now why he hated the thought of a brilliant music career. His whole family dead in one day, and himself gone away, unable to help or stop fate from dealing him this blow. I wondered if he would be very happy that his beloved grandmama had just shared this with us but I was not about to ask him anything about it so maybe he would never know that we all now knew.

"Enough sadness," she patted the girl's hands, "Meghan tell me, do you have a handsome beau tucked away pinning for you this very moment?"

Meg laughed softly and her cheeks reddened, "No."

"Oh that's too bad, but a girl as pretty as you must have a thousand offers," Clotilda teased easily, "Or does your father keep them all away with brute strength until the right one comes along?"

Meg swallowed awkwardly, "My father died six years ago."

"Oh dear me child, I am so sorry for saying anything at all, can you forgive an old lady for prattling on?"

Tears were shining in Meg's eyes as she nodded quickly and sniffed. I pulled out my handkerchief and leaned over to give it to Meg and Clotilda chirped my name.

"Erik?" she was looking for me to help, "Why don't you play something nice on the piano for us. The teacher who educated Diva Daae surely plays well?"

"Of course Madame," I half bowed as I stood and strode to Cameron's piano. There was no bench and I glanced around and then pulled up a small chair. I was playing for less than a minute when Christine's hands rested on my shoulders.

"I cannot resist..." she whispered in my ear, squeezing my shoulders and I held back a grin.

"I don't mind at all," I whispered back. I played a few different pieces, trying for cheerful ones and Christine swayed with me, sometimes humming softly, until I noticed Cameron from the corner of my eye. I rose to greet him and he waved his hand.

"Don't let me stop you," he smiled as he leaned forward to shake my hand. "Glad to see you both again, Christine," he reached out for her hand. "You look stunning," he kissed her fingers and Christine bowed her head.

"Thank you, Cameron," she stepped aside so the view to Meghan was unobstructed. "You remember my sister, Meghan Giry."

"Sister?"

Christine laughed, "Sister of the heart, for no one is dearer to me..." she paused and glanced at me with a flutter of her lashes as Cameron wheeled past us. "Except you," a secret smile curled her mouth and I hoped my face didn't redden too much. She was being very suggestive with her looks tonight.

"Mademoiselle Giry," Cameron reached for her hand, "A true pleasure to see you again, you are even more beautiful than I recall."

"Oh," Meg looked struck dumb as he kissed her fingers. His chocolate brown eyes looked up at her and she tried to articulate a response. "Thank you...for inviting me."

"Any friend of Erik and Christine's is a friend of mine," Cameron was perfectly courteous and polite but I noticed he was still holding her hand.

"Instant friendship?" Meg began to smile in her own mischievous way. "Without even knowing what kind of person I am?" she laughed a little and Clotilda interrupted from her seat.

"A dear angel is what you are, now come sit and tell me all the gossip about La Carlotta," Meg and Christine sat with Tilly and they giggled while Cameron and I watched for a moment. He glanced up at me with a small smile and I almost grinned for the second time tonight.

"I always knew girls were silly but I never realized they do not grow out of it." Cameron laughed at my joke and Christine's eyes flicked to me with a small stern frown before getting swept back into the gossip. I sat in the closest chair. "So how have you been?"

He took his hands from the wheels, "Well, and you?"

I thought about my embellished fight with Raoul and the incident with Albert and then the issue with Meg and arguing with Christine over her voice, "Life is certainly more exciting then it has ever been."

"I am ready for Saturday, are you?"

"Of course," I nodded.

"Idday omeonesay ikestray erhay?" he asked quickly and my brain had to repeat it to translate the pig latin. Did someone strike her? I nodded once and he kept talking so the girls would not notice. "When do the performances for Hannibal begin?"

"Saturday night, but if all goes well we might think of postponing it until after Christmas."

"And the purpose of that?"

"Carlotta has not been allowing Christine to rehearse and as good as she is, it would be prudent for her to have some solid rehearsal time before performing 4 nights a week. I will not have her debut unprepared again."

"Good point, well, we will have to do something Saturday night for the people who expect Hannibal to be running."

"The orchestra could play excerpts from previous operas and we could have a few random numbers sang and danced."

Cameron nodded slowly as if pondering and I noticed the excited chatter had died down. The ladies were paying attention to our conversation and I raised a brow at Christine.

"Eavesdropping?" I queried and she laughed.

"There is only so much that can be said about La Carlotta. Will we not perform Hannibal Saturday night?"

"Nothing is set in stone," I frowned at her. "This knowledge cannot be shared with anyone outside this room."

She rolled her eyes, "I know."

"Dinner is served," the butler called out clearly from the entrance to the music room and we all stood enmass, except for one.

He hesitated as he glanced at the ladies and then said, "Mlle Giry, would you do me the honour?" and held up his hand for hers. She stepped forward with her eyes riveted to his face and took his hand. He placed it on his shoulder just as he'd done with Christine's and then began wheeling away. I was left unsure who to escort and Christine saved me the embarrassment by taking Clotilda's arm and following behind Cameron and Meg. I brought up the rear, wondering what Cameron was saying to Meg as she giggled girlishly and said yes.

Dinner tasted much better this time but I also was not worried for my woman's affections so it probably had something to do with that. Afterwards Cameron and I snuck off to his smoking room while the ladies waited for us in the music room.

"Who was it?" was the first thing he asked me as soon as the door closed.

"Are you looking for a name?" I sat across from him as he filled his pipe.

"Yes."

"Why? What for?" I leaned back, remembering he'd been adamant that he could not pursue Meg and yet now he wanted to exact revenge?

"If it was a man, he will pay for it," he was grim and I started to smile.

"Seems like a lot of trouble for a girl you have no interest in."

He gave me a peeved look, "I never said I wasn't interested and that was before she came into my home with a fading handprint on her face. Just please tell me it was not her mother."

"It was not her mother."

"But you do know who did it?" he was studying my face and I wondered if he was as good at it as I was.

I nodded and he puffed angrily, if such a thing was possible. "Why do men feel the need to hit women..." he grumbled to himself and then turned those intelligent eyes to me. "Give me his name."

"Albert Rinton." I gave up my information, all for it, if he planned to hunt Albert down and hurt him. "But she did not want me to tell anyone."

"When did this happen?"

"Just after I last saw you, I came across the scum trying to force her..." I trailed off knowing Cameron was smart enough to figure it out.

He gritted his teeth around the stem of his pipe. "He will pay," he stared off at nothing.

"How exactly?" I was curious what he would do since he couldn't physically do anything, except maybe run over his foot with his chair.

"I will see how he reacts when I confront him and then I will decide whether to crush him or merely slap his wrist."

"You are making me want to ask you why?" had he changed his mind about Meghan? He stayed silent and puffed on his pipe.

"I do not think we are well enough acquainted yet for me to explain all my reasons to you."

I shrugged, "That is why I did not actually ask." He laughed lightly some tension leaving him and then sobered.

"Why would she not want anyone to know? Anyone with two eyes can see the handprint and it must have been much worse a few days ago? Does her mother not keep her safe or even care about her? How can she allow her to be treated thusly?"

"I am not the right person to ask about her mother. That woman hates me. I made Meghan a tincture to heal the bruise but she did not apply it enough. If she had, you would not have been privy to this information. As for her reasons," I shrugged again not wanting to give away everything Meg had said to me. I'd already broken her confidence by revealing things she'd asked me not to tell but I hoped it would only work out positively for both of them. "One can only guess why girls do what they do."

He silently puffed and I let him figure things out. I was pretty sure he would change his mind where Meg was concerned, otherwise why waste his time seeking revenge in her name, and I knew Meg was interested. If they spent some time together...

He was tapping out his pipe and I stood to follow him out. Cameron wheeled himself straight to the piano and all three women came closer.

"Do you sing, Meghan?" he asked as he sketched a few scales out and Meg guffawed perhaps a little too boisterously.

"Only Christmas carols, and only in very large groups."

Cameron and Clotilda both laughed and Christine came to put her arm around my waist.

"Are you having a good time?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, love," I kissed her forehead, lingering over her rose scented hair as Cameron began playing.

"Are we interrupting the love birds?" Clotilda laughed and Meghan practically snorted.

"Those two are so lovey dovey that it often incites regurgitation." Cameron quivered as if holding in gales of laughter and I reluctantly let go of Christine. We both neared the piano and Cameron asked Christine if she would sing for us.

"Of course," she beamed. They warmed up and then sang and played a half a dozen songs together before Cameron took a short break to rest his fingers where he asked me if I also sing.

"I only teach," I deflected the question and Christine frowned.

"You sing beautifully, Erik," I watched the idea form in her eyes. "We should sing a duet!" She clapped excitedly and begged me with her eyes as Cameron's lips quirked at my discomfort. It, of course, was impossible for me to deny Christine anything and she flipped through Cameron's music to find an appropriate one.

He played the intro and I stared at Christine so as not to feel embarrassed and when my cue came, I sang.

---

Christine

---

When Erik began to sing I realized my folly. His unique angelic voice had begun to be familiar to my ears and it no longer overwhelmed me on a regular basis but when he sang, it still vibrated within me, resonating in time with my entire being. I was easily entranced with the strength and intensity he created with his golden throat. He also had no piano to concentrate on and it left him with his focus solely trained on me. He sang in his pure strong mesmerizing tenor and stole the breath from my lungs with his eyes boring into mine as he gestured lightly with his elegant fingers and I felt like he was touching me from a distance just with the power of his presence, of his music. He stopped and I stood staring at him until the piano fell into silence.

"You missed your cue," Cameron's voice penetrated my subconscious and I twitched into life.

"Oh, forgive me," my cheeks heated, "I could not recall the words." I still could not remove my eyes from my powerful man as one of his eyebrows arched upward.

"Would you like to try again?" Cameron asked as his fingers caressed the keys silently.

"Yes please...again..." Erik's lips were curling into a smile and my stomach flopped over at the heat in his eyes. My womanly cycles were finally over and staying with Meg last night had given me the opportunity to bathe without Erik having to prepare the bath for me. Warmth was filling me at the thought of finally being with him again tonight. It was hard to remember that there were others here and I could not just lead him to the closest bedroom to have my way with him. The image of two indian people in an acrobatic intimate embrace floated through my head and I had to close my eyes as Cameron began to play.

This time I counted the bars of music and tried to tune out Erik's voice and managed to start singing. Our voices soared through the song like two birds dancing in the sky together. We dipped and soared and clashed with exquisite purity. Our voices were made to soar together, just like everything with us was divinely matched. It was heavenly perfection and I wanted to throw myself into his arms and act out the emotions the song brought forth. The song ended and the music stopped and I felt drained and sagged slightly, as if something had been holding me up during the song. It was easy to imagine that it was the elemental power of our voices combined that had carried me through.

"That was very good," Erik complimented me with a serious thoughtful expression on his face.

"You have a gifted voice, Erik," Cameron turned his chair away from the piano. "You could easily take the male lead across from your wife."

Even as Erik stiffened like someone had struck him, I imagined that some day that dream of a dream could come true.

---

Erik

---

"I most certainly could not," I felt my anger spring to life at the ludicrous suggestion.

"Oh that would be exquisite!" Christine sighed with dreams in her eyes.

"A little makeup would hide everything, especially from the audience." Cameron sat back really taking this into consideration while I glared at him.

"I am not a singer," I asserted.

"Why does he need makeup?" Clotilda asked, assuring me that she was mostly blind, as Meg came closer and studied my face intently.

"It would be so easy to cover the rest," she mussed quietly.

"I will not wear makeup!" I was adamant and Christine pouted.

"I would much rather act with you than with Piangi, as talented as he is."

"It will never happen," I said through clenched teeth.

"Never say never," Cameron replied lightly. "I myself have learned that no matter what you do, or what you desire, certain things are just meant to be."

"Like us," Christine took my hands and squeezed them.

"I agree with you about us, but I have performed enough in my life to have no desire to do so now." I tried not to growl as I spoke of it but my time with the gypsies and my role of Deathbringer were flitting through my mind. If I graced another stage, allbeit not a dirt floored cage or a pit of death, I would never be able to get out of my head the chanting. Sing. Kill. Sing. Kill. Reveal the monster inside you.

I was an evil specimen pretending to be a normal man, everyone would see it if I stood next to Christine on stage. Better I stayed in the dark where it was safe for me to pretend...

"It would be vastly different..." Christine tried one last time, putting her arms around me to hold me tight.

"No," I remained stubbornly against it and saw Cameron shrug.

"Seems a waste to me," he wheeled towards the fire and expertly tended it from his chair while I let myself hug Christine for a second and then pulled away, not wanting to incite regurgitation among those gathered. Cameron suggested we play cards and I realized he was trying to distract me from the recent topic. He was a good man and how could he know of my apprehensions without knowing my past. He was buying an opera house in a few days and finding the best performers was only common sense. I let myself relax and another hour slid by in friendly companionship. I felt bad for making such a stand against something they all thought could be easy but they did not understand. I was not normal. I was a monstrous freak. The fact that they all accepted me was merely because they were special people. There was no way everyone in Paris would be so willing.


	52. Exploration

**Author's note: Hello all my faithful readers!! I am so sorry for the very looong wait for this next chapter, life has not been good to me lately. One blow after another...but I have tried to get this up for you as soon as humanly possible. The wait for the chapter after this one may be just as long but I will try very hard to have it up in two weeks. That's a reasonable amount of time, is it not?**

**I hope you all enjoy this installment. Please let me know if you did?? Reviews make this author happy happy when the world around her is making her very sad :( I will warn that this installment is steamy! :D Yeah for steamy Erik!!**

**Enjoy!**

---

Erik

---

Christine curled into my side in the carriage while Meg practically hummed with energy.

"He is marvelous," she gushed. "And his grandmother is wonderful, so loving and open and exactly how I would want my grandmother to be. I can't believe how amazing his piano playing is. He's some kind of genius. And did you hear, Christine? His grandfather lost the use of his legs as well. That's means he is not paralyzed, he might still be able to have children. Maybe he can even walk with help..."

"Wait," I had to ask. "You are already planning a family with him?" there was disbelief in my voice and Meg rolled her eyes.

"Why else would I want to get married? Oh, he smokes a pipe doesn't he?" She did not wait for my nod before blathering on. "I could smell the tobacco, it reminded me so much of my father." She gazed out the window losing her train of thought for a minute and then jerked back into her steady stream of speech. "Isn't it horrible how his whole family died. Poor Tilly, watching the house collapse. At least I knew my father was dying and I was able to tell him how I loved him before he died. I think I would have curled into a tiny ball and died myself if something like that had happened to me. And Cameron must feel guilty too, not being there, but then he probably would have died too. Oh, Christine I think I love him already."

"Don't get carried away, Meghan," Christine spoke very seriously. "You've only just met him."

"And how long did it take you to fall in love with him?" Meg jerked her thumb at me and Christine glanced at me with an adoring light in her eyes.

"Much too long..." she said with a smile and I slowly returned that smile.

"Don't go all disgusting on me," Meg curled her lips in distaste. "Let's stay focused here."

"On what?" I asked curiously.

"On me and Cameron, duh!"

"Oh, pardon me." I rolled my eyes as Christine sat forward.

"He said you were beautiful."

Meg sneered, "Obviously he was only being courteous seeing as I'm currently an ugly troll." She pointed at her face with one accusatory finger.

"If you applied the tincture as I instructed..." I started and she cut me off.

"It was the stinkiest thing I ever smelled. How was I supposed to apply it three times a day and not stink out everyone in the opera house?"

"The bruise would have been completely gone for tonight..."

Meg shrugged casually, "I don't mind that he saw, maybe it made him feel sorry for me..."

"He held your hand longer than necessary," Christine offered and Meg grinned.

"I know, and I did catch him looking at me a few times," she giggled. "I thought he would escort you to dinner because you are much more famous then I am, but he called for me and I almost tripped over Tilly in my haste to hold his hand. His shoulders are so strong," she giggled again and Christine laughed with her as I looked out the window at the passing view. She went on about how his arms must be strong because of pushing the chair and he was so polite and gentlemanly but funny and sweet and had a beautiful laugh and blah, blah, blah.

"So, Erik," Meg called me back into the conversation and I arched my brows at her. "What did the two of you talk about in the smoking room?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" she singsonged and Christine rubbed my knee.

"You can tell us," she batted her lashes at me and my lips twitched.

"You two are insatiable gossips," I retorted and turned to look out the window.

"Come on, Erik!" Meg complained, "Did he say anything about me at all?"

I realized this might be a good time to apologize for breaking my promise to her so I turned back and took Christine's hand in mine to stop its movement on my leg. "He did ask who hit you."

"He did!" Meg looked ecstatic. "He cares, Christine!" and she dissolved into jovial laughter while clapping her hands. "Tell me everything! Please, please, please, Erik!" Meg batted her lashes at me and I frowned.

"Do all women think that a few fluttering lashes can get them anything?"

"Yes," they both said in unison and we all laughed lightly at that. When we calmed I studied Meg seriously, afraid that she would be angry with my decision to reveal everything to Cameron.

"I told him who it was, Meghan, I'm sorry." She didn't seem to care a smidge.

"Did he look upset? Angry? What did he say?" She leaned forward eagerly.

"He said that Albert will pay for his actions but he would not expand on his thoughts. The only thing I can think of is that Cameron will ruin him financially, but I suppose we will all find out soon enough."

Meg excitedly clasped Christine's hands, "He is acting as my knight! Surely he feels something for me."

"He must," Christine grinned with her and then glanced at me, before leaning to Meg's ear and continuing sotto voce. "I will see if I can glean anymore information from you-know-who." Meg giggled girlishly and then flopped back against the seat as if exhausted.

"What a wonderful evening..." she sighed staring off out the window and Christine smiled hugely at me and then cuddled to my shoulder once more.

---

Christine

---

When Erik and I entered his home, I had only one thing on my mind. I exaggerated a yawn and he asked if I wanted to go to bed. I smiled and nodded and said I would be only a few minutes before closing myself into my bedroom to get ready. I hung my dress, brushed my hair and ran some hair tonic through my unruly curls. As an afterthought, I dabbed some rose water on my neck and between my breasts before closing the wrapper around my bare body.

Erik was in the kitchen brewing his tea and I came up beside him to trail my wanting hands on his back and down over his backside.

"Would you like me to braid your hair?" he offered.

"Later..." I replied evasively. "Are you going to take that right away?"

"If I wait too long I may sleep in as happened before," he turned, leaned against the counter and crossed his arms and finally took in my wrapper. He didn't say anything but his eyes traveled down and up my body and I warmed just from his eyes drinking in my form. I stepped close and his arms unwound for me. My hands were already slipping into his unbuttoned shirt as I leaned against his hard body and wrapped my arms around his torso. He had a bandage over the glued wound and my fingers grazed the area checking for any wetness. There was none and I rested my forehead on his chest, wanting to begin by removing all his clothing.

"Erik...?" my throat closed up with embarrassment and I could feel my cheeks burning. Why was I so embarrassed when it wasn't anything new? I've lain with him before, imagined it, dreamed about it, fantasized about the different ways we could come together. Why was I so embarrassed to tell him I was ready for him to have again? And again and again...

"Is something wrong?" he trailed his hands lovingly down my loose hair and cradled me against him.

"No," I whispered at a loss for how to proceed. Should I just throw myself on him and hope he understood my desire?

"Christine?" he pulled back to look down at me with a furrowed brow. "You are flushed. Are you well?" His cool hands felt my forehead with concern and I wanted to say that there must be something wrong with me, but I knew it was not the right thing to say to Erik. It would make him worry instantly and the only real thing wrong with me is that I was yearning quite badly for intimate relations with my man.

"I am well but there is something I need..." I stepped away from him and studied the ground as I loosened my wrapper and let it fall, revealing my naked self to him. Things were always much easier without words.

Seconds felt like forever before he had me pressed in his arms and cut off my ability to breathe in his vigor.

"My love..." he buried his face in my neck. "What are you trying to tell me?" His hands grasped me so tightly that I felt the skin might bruise.

"I..." I closed my eyes against the press of his cheek and he pulled back to force me to look at him. His piercing eyes were already darkening with want and I reached for his lips. "I need you..." I breathed out.

He crushed his lips on mine and my knees wobbled at the intense press of his entire body over mine. He picked me up to sit on the table and my legs automatically wrapped around his hips. He bent us over, laying me on the table, desperate to fully taste my mouth. Giddiness rolled over me at the thought of him taking me right here, in the kitchen, on this very table. How would I ever just eat here with him, without wanting him for dessert every night?

I could not say for certain how long we kissed on the kitchen table, his hands wandering over my naked breasts, hips and legs. My body quivered for his touch and every time his hands moved on from one piece of my flesh to the next, the skin left behind tingled with satisfaction. Suddenly I was lifted into his arms and our lips lost contact. I let mine drift over his missing cheek as he carried me to his bedroom and I could feel the tension all down his neck and in his shoulders. He laid me on the bed and stripped his clothing off so quickly that I had barely cleared the hair from my eyes when he was pushing me down. His face was intense and focused but he suddenly hesitated above me, his hands halting on my flesh.

I reached up and cupped his face in my hands, searching his eyes for what was troubling him, but he took a deep breath and then slowly laid out his body over mine. Our naked bodies tangled, reminding me of just how wonderful it felt to be naked next to him. He buried his hands in my hair, holding my face in his tight fingers as he stared into my eyes.

"I love you," he whispered and I realized he was trying to slow down and not just take me wildly. I tried not to pout at that realization and I told him I loved him too before bringing our lips together. He took his time, kissing me slowly and gently, running his hands over my skin like this was our first time together. I kept thinking of what could have happened if he couldn't control himself. I wanted him to not control himself. I wanted to do something wild and exotic and out of control. If he would not let himself go then maybe I could help us. I did have a few ideas of my own.

Meg had given me all her knowledge on certain things a woman can do to pleasure a man and the different positions that she had enjoyed. I wanted to try them all. I wanted to bring the picture from his book to life. I wanted to be and do everything for and to Erik and when he rolled me above him I slithered from his arms and knelt beside his prone, svelte figure.

"I want to try something," I asked knowing I probably looked frightened and eager and all sorts of things.

"Alright," he looked at me curiously and I had to break our gaze so I could look down at his manhood. It was intimidating looking but I thought I could fit at least part of it in my mouth. What if I made a fool of myself? What if he was horrified by my actions? What if it tasted strange?

"Just relax..." I breathed out, not sure if I was talking to him or me and then bent over and licked him lightly. His cock jumped, as it often did when I touched it and it smacked me in the face.

"Oh, Christine, I'm so sorry," he reached for me and I started laughing. Tension unraveled from me and I reached out and took him in my hand, gliding over the soft warm skin. He froze and I leaned over to taste him again.

"Do not worry, love," I licked him quickly. "I should have known better." I closed my eyes and covered the end of his cock with my mouth. I heard him groan but I was lost in the fell of him in my mouth. It felt very large and was much warmer against my tongue and so incredibly soft. I twirled my tongue around like Meg had suggested and his hips arched upward. I released him briefly to smile at my success and then dove back in.

I loved him carefully with my tongue and mouth, mindful to keep my teeth from biting down and he groaned my name above me. I felt especially naughty, but amazing at the same time and I shifted my rear end closer to his head so we could try a position that had sounded like it would be fun. His hand skimmed over my rump cautiously and then he grasped a handful as I flicked him with my tongue. He kneaded the flesh of my backside as his hips made small encouraging motions and I moved closer still, bumping his head with my hip. His hand paused and suddenly I was lifted and straddled over his face. He whispered his love for me against my womanhood and then his tongue delved into me. I lost my concentration for sometime as he laved at my entrance but I managed to put my mouth back over him. We both moaned for each other and I had never felt anything so powerfully cosmic.

I was a knowledgeable woman who knew how to pleasure her man while taking pleasure for myself as well. While I most definitely enjoyed what he was currently doing to me, I also was thoroughly enjoying the feel of him in my mouth. The taste of him was pleasing and the pulsing warm organ seemed to have a mind of its own as it strained and twitched in my hands. I had nothing on my own body that was so interesting.

I choked on the length of him twice but I blame it on Erik's tongue between my legs. He had the ability to make my whole body spasm and flex and it was difficult to control where his tongue coaxed my body to go. Would I ever get used to the feel of this? Did I ever want to get used to him loving me with his mouth, his long hands, his tight body...

Suddenly, I was flipped onto my back and Erik twisted himself onto me. Without any warning he married our bodies into one and I arched tightly even as I accepted him into me. He stayed very still above me and my lashes fluttered open to see why he had stopped.

His eyes were dark and smoldering under his hair and his lips curled into the tiniest smile. "That was...a nice surprise."

I felt a naughty pleased smile curve my lips and pushed my hips up to his in invitation. He bent to my neck and began moving and I sighed in relief. I was whole again, I had him safe within me. I held him tightly as we rocked our bodies in time to the music in our heads and hearts. It felt so good, so perfect to be united with him. I never wanted to stop. I wanted to just love him until the end of time.

He took my hands and laced his fingers through, holding them down and pinning me beneath him while we made love. Our eyes were locked with one another. I felt like I was in a different world, a different time. I felt the years open ahead of us, the joy, the tears, the laughter, the love, the music...

"Erik..." I whimpered, feeling that pressure within me, pushing the boundaries of my body, searching for release.

"Yes, my angel..." he curled down to me and wrapped me in his embrace as his movements lost their even rhythm. My back arched as one last pulse spilled me into the realm of sated pleasure and he followed close behind, shuddering with his release. Our bodies sagged, melting into one another, our breath panting lightly and I played my fingers through his hair as a huge smile plastered itself on my face.

That went well.

---

Erik

---

My body may have been sated, for now, but my mind was not. I wanted to know where my precious angel had ever gotten the idea to try what we just did.

I could not ask. That would make it seem as if I was displeased and I most certainly was not.

Her fingers played through my hair and I lazily licked her neck before setting my mouth on her to suck gently. She giggled and squirmed beneath me.

"Careful, or I will have you again," I warned her quietly.

"Is that supposed to be a punishment?" she laughed and wiggled some more.

My brain twitched incoherently as she moved beneath me, writhing erotically.

"Christine..." my hips rocked to try and find a way to go deeper and her legs clamped around my hips.

"Do you want more?" she asked sweetly, biting gently on my ear and a shiver ran down my spine at her words. I almost looked around us to see if naked women were going to spill from my bathroom. "Erik?" she pushed me back so she could see me, I suppose because she felt the tension ripple through me at her words. Her loving gaze searched mine and I just stared at her, falling deeper under her spell every moment I was with her. "What is it?" her hand gently skimmed my grotesque cheek.

"I will have you again," I promised lasciviously. "But not quite yet." I rolled from her body to stir the fire. I had assumed that we would go straight to bed and to sleep and therefore did not build up the fire. I stared at the glowing wood, as I coaxed it brighter. What I seriously wanted was to lay Christine down before it and make love to her by the light of the flickering flames.

But I suppose it could wait for another night. She was surely tired, though I myself felt invigorated, I schooled my thoughts to be patient.

I turned back to the bed and she was sitting up, watching me with lustful eyes. I crooked my finger at her, knowing I would not wait for another night. She smiled and bowed her head and then pushed the sheets away to come to me. Her lithe, naked figure approached me, her golden aura reflecting the firelight and I already felt myself hardening for her. Her eyes watched the transformation in fascination and when she looked back up at me a full blush coloured her cheeks.

"I should not stare," she mumbled in apology and I chuckled lightly.

"I am yours to stare at," I drew her down to the pillows and she rested her cheek on my chest as we both watched the flames. Her hand skimmed over the bandage around me and I answered her unasked question, "It does not even hurt anymore."

"Even after such...activities?"

"Before, after and during," I assured her and began twirling her hair through my fingers. "I am fine, my love."

The fire crackled happily for a few minutes before Christine broke the silence. "Do you think Cameron likes Meg?"

"He may, it is difficult not to like Meg."

Christine laughed, "True." She began sliding her foot along my leg. "But do you think he really likes her, as more than just a friend?"

"Give them both some time, my sweet. These things do not happen over night."

"True," she mussed, sketching her fingernails up my arm. "Is Tilly blind?"

I laughed, "I'm not sure. She's remarkably aware of her surroundings and very good at pretending she is not blind, if she truly is."

"Is it rude to ask her? I guess I already made her relive her terrible loss, what more could matter."

"You were very kind to her," I rubbed Christine's back, "And I have a feeling she wanted us to know what happened to their family."

"Will we really never perform together?" she asked quietly and I tensed minutely. "Oh Erik," she sat up quickly with a worried frown. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I should not have said anything at all, but did you not feel how perfectly our voices joined? It was the most exquisite sound."

"I heard," I replied solemnly, knowing what she said was true. Her and I were destined to make music together, our voices two parts of a whole just as our bodies were.

"You heard it and yet you will keep such a treasure from the world?"

"You are _my_ treasure," I pulled her back down to me. "I already share you with them, is that not enough?" Her mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say. "I will not say that it will never happen but the thought does not sit well with me."

"I'm sorry." She hid her face on my chest and I buried my fingers in her hair.

"Do not apologize, my heart. I wish to give you everything you desire but apparently there are some things I cannot or will not..." I trailed off not liking how guilty I felt about not wanting to be the star of another freak show. Yet I wanted her to go in front of the same audience night after night seeking their approval? Of course, it would be easy for her to win their hearts, she was an angel. A beautiful, radiant, golden being with a perfect instrument. Everyone would automatically love her.

Christine was moving again, pushing herself up so she could look down into my eyes. "You've given me so much, Erik. I'm a selfish girl for wanting even more."

"Shh..." I touched her lips with my finger. "Do not speak ill of yourself or I may have to punish you."

Her lips slowly curled in a suggestive manner, "What form of punishment were you thinking of?"

"Hmmm...." I let my hands slide down her back and then slapped her backside lightly. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened and I spanked her again before she could escape.

"Erik!" She started to laugh and squirm away, but I followed and pulled her over my lap to offer up her fanny to my waiting palm. She struggled against me as I spanked her mercilessly until she finally stopped and gave over to giggling.

"That doesn't even hurt, Erik," she laughed.

"I do not want it to hurt," I soothed the area by stroking it gently. "I want it to entice you," I finished in a low, heated purr. Her laughter stilled and she glanced up at me with those large, light filled eyes.

"Entice me?" she whispered and I smiled wickedly as I dipped my fingers into her moist cleft. Her neck arched back as her eyes fluttered shut and I grew hard just watching her take pleasure from me. I tickled and teased her until she moaned my name, her fingers grasping at the fur rug and her body writhing on my lap.

I could not contain myself any longer and I laid her out and settled myself between her legs. Our joining was fast and hard, her nails dug into my shoulders as I pumped myself in and out of her body's embrace. I felt mindless with desire for her. Why was I so insatiable? I just had her and yet, this felt so good that I wished there was no end to it. No climax, no finale, no bright searing ecstasy. Just an unending acceptance, an unlimited joining of our hearts, bodies and souls. She grabbed my face and splayed her hands on my cheeks.

"I love you," she panted as her golden eyes flickered with the firelight.

"I burn for you," I rasped and then stole her lips to savour her sweet mouth. She moaned into my kiss, her fingers tightening in my hair and I suddenly wanted her to scratch me or bite me or hurt me in some way. My motions halted and I pushed up slightly, disconcerted with the strange desires.

Her darkened gaze searched mine as she coaxed me back down. "I do not know if I will ever have enough of you," she whispered before kissing my temple and cheek, finding her way to my mouth.

"Moi aussi," I breathed as I renewed my efforts.

Her hands skimmed over the small of my back, sliding down over my rump and back up as I made vigorous love to her. I found my own release, safe in her arms, but was disappointed that I did not feel that tightening of her body beneath me. As we rolled apart and held each other I knew I would focus all my attentions on her pleasure the next time we embraced intimately.

She sighed happily and her fingers found their way to my hair again. "Can we go back to bed now?" her dreamy voice penetrated my sex addled brain.

"Yes, love." I picked her up and staggered to bed. I remembered my tea but wondered if I actually needed it every single night. I felt nicely drowsy myself so I curled into bed with her to see if sleep would be bestowed upon me this evening.

I began imagining our wedding day, complete with cheery flowers and smiling guests, though who those people were I had no clue. I was standing alone. A huge door was at the end of a long aisle and I stared, waiting for it to open. Christine suddenly appeared as if by magic. I knew it was her, I could feel our bond thrill through me, but it was hard to see Christine's face. She was blurred in my vision as if there was a cloud around her head. I tried to see her clearly but her face stayed out of focus as she stood at the entrance. I reached out a hand to her and she took only one hesitant step forward before stopping. I thought about striding down the aisle to pick her up but she was suddenly hunching over and falling to the ground. My feet were immobile and I watched her crumple to the ground, her face still blurred by a cloud as everyone around us clapped happily. I reached out to her in vane with her name falling from my deformed lips...

I woke with a start and Christine was mumbling in her sleep. I rolled over and put my arms tight around her, letting my hand trail down the center of her body to feel her heart beating. It felt so nice to have her naked beside me again that I nuzzled my face into her hair. It was making my ardor harder to contain, but she did not seem to want me to contain my ardor. I kept remembering the way she dropped her wrapper and reached for me with the words I need you whispered from her lips. Thoughts of her frightened gaze right before she leaned over to lick my cock and our tantalizing new position were making me hard even now. I rubbed my now aching erection against her and she stirred.

Without a word, she turned in my arms and put her mouth on mine, mewling in satisfaction at the touch of my tongue. Her arms felt heavy as they trailed around my neck and I wondered if she was still half asleep as I began exploring her body. I couldn't stop myself and why would I want to stop myself when she arched into my searching hands and tightened her hold on me.

We started the dance all over again, my hands smoothing over her skin, her breasts, her hips, into her hair as her lips caressed my face. When I was with her it was hard to remember that I was not a normal man. She made me feel so normal. Gone were my facial insecurities, gone were the worries of my evil nature, gone was every coherent thought as her hand slid around my hip to encircle my hard cock.

"Is this for me?" she whispered, squeezing me lightly before putting her open mouth over mine. Many saucy replies came to mind but her tongue traced into my mouth gently and I slowly thrust my hips towards her grip. I was ravenous for more love and began the motions of making love to her hand. I did not want to assume I could roughly pillage her secret place three times in one night.

She obliged for a few minutes by keeping her delicate fingers wrapped around me, but her hand loosened eventually and slid to my back and I felt a huge disappointment well within me. I needed her again. I was a sex fiend who needed to find release again and again. My body tightened with the urge to roll her to her back and spread her legs and be enveloped by her body, but I stayed chastely in her arms and let her kiss my neck while my cock hummed.

"Mmmm..." she wiggled against me. "Penny for your thoughts?"

I laughed hoarsely, "I need more than a penny for these tumultuous thoughts."

"Tumultuous?" she giggled and pushed on my chest so we both rolled over. Her body rose over mine, as she straddled my hips and pressed her heated core to my wanting shaft. She shook out her hair and looked down at me, with curls falling in front of her sultry eyes. "Can we share our thoughts without any words?" she whispered breathily and I almost moaned right there. She wanted me again?

I cupped her backside to lift her and carefully press my hard attraction into her waiting folds. She arched back as I entered her and I watched her as best I could for signs of distress but my own eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds at the glorious feel of being accepted. When I was deep inside her she looked down at me with fire in her eyes. She was right, we did not need any words.

Our bodies and souls were joined in an incomprehensible way. She shuddered above me, rocking her hips to meet mine again and again. I watched her moving above me and felt my heart opening to fit more of her inside. She was free as a bird on the breeze as her body swayed and undulated over mine. She was my bird, my golden songbird. She was a goddess, glowing with the heat of our love. My eyes were rivetted to her, watching her ride me, and I tried to help her to her climax.

"Find your pleasure, mon ange." I encouraged her in a low purr, but my words had her halting.

"I don't know how," she looked upset by this and I pulled her down to my lips.

"You were doing fine only a moment ago," I cooed with my mouth on her cheek and my hands spanning her shoulders.

"But...I was...I wasn't thinking." She wrapped her arms under me and buried her face in my neck.

"And now that you are?" It felt decidedly odd having a conversation while our bodies were still joined.

"I...feel awkward," she whispered. "It's easier with no talking."

I tended to agree with her at the moment but also remembered how she had become embarrassed by my speaking of intimate things. "You wish for me not to speak when we make love?" I could not help sounding a little frustrated by this.

"Yes...no...I don't know." She would not move from her curled up position.

"But we have spoken before and it did not bother you?"

"I know but it...did this time."

"Because?" I tried to be patiently encouraging and not move an inch. Otherwise I would be reminded of the delicate position we were in.

"Because...you know more about this than I do!"

"I know only what I've learned with you..." I started and she pulled back to interrupt.

"And what your book taught you!" My hands froze on her hips.

"My book?" she climbed off of me and turned her back on me, gathering her legs to her chest.

"You lied about the Kama Sutra." She sounded like she was pouting and I sat up and pulled the sheets over my naked groin.

"I did not lie about anything."

She made an annoyed sound, "You omitted then."

I could not defend myself against that and stayed silent.

"You have a book that teaches you how to do this and you did not share it with me." My mouth dropped open behind her back. The fact that she knew what the Kama Sutra entailed meant that she had looked at it and she still wanted to read it? "You have much more knowledge then I do and I have none at all. I am the one who only knows what you've taught me but how am I supposed to find..." she trailed off and made an irritated sound as she put her face in her knees.

"I did not teach you to do what we did earlier." I heard her make another noise. "And the book may go over some of the details but you should know that not everything can be taught with words on a page."

She finally looked at me over her shoulder with a distraught expression on her face. "Maybe not, but you said it was a Indian spiritual guide."

"They consider sex to be a spiritual joining of man and woman and I tend to agree with that." When she said nothing I added, "The entire book is not dedicated to just sex."

"You could have told me more clearly," she pressed and I frowned.

"I thought I was protecting your delicate nature." Her lips pursed as her eyes narrowed.

"Just like when you told me you had some business to take care of and came home sliced in half?"

Panic was beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. Christine and I had never really argued about anything. Well, we had that silly fight about her voice the other day but this felt very bad. She thought I was hiding things from her. I wanted to blunder through an explanation of how it was protecting her and keeping her innocent, the way I liked her, and I was not necessarily hiding things, but I knew it would only solidify my guilty conscious. Anger began to wash through me, my favorite emotion to keep all the others at bay.

"And if I had told you I was going out to threaten Mr. De Changy?"

"You threatened him?" she squeaked turning to gape at me.

"Of course I did! If his spawn does not stay away from you..."

"Erik, what if he goes to the police?"

"Then all _their_ secrets will be revealed," I muttered darkly.

"And what about your secrets?" Her voice was heightened with anxiety so I tried to calm her.

"No one knows anything about me..."

"Mme Giry does! And for that matter so does Meg and Nadir..."

"Nadir would never tell anyone anything!" I defended my adopted father.

"But Mme Giry would!" Christine covered her crumpling face. "They will come and take you from me and I won't be able to stop them..."

"If anyone lays a finger on me I will snap it off," my voice was deadly serious and Christine looked up with a horrified expression. "Never forget how dangerous I can be, Christine." I rose from the bed to go spend the evening hiding in my laboratory. From the look on her face she would not want to sleep with me tonight, let alone continue where we had left off.

"Where are you going?" her pleading tone stopped me, but I did not turn.

"You may stay in this bed, I will rest elsewhere." My voice was surprisingly smooth for the amount of inner turmoil I was in.

"WHAT? Come back here!" her vehement command had me turning in awe. Her hair was rising around her head like a lion's mane and her golden eyes looked as dangerous as any feline's. "Get back in this bed this moment!" She pointed angrily at the mattress and I stayed defiantly where I was, regardless of the fact that I wished to obey her. She closed her eyes and took a few breaths before speaking again. "Please come back to bed, Erik." She beckoned for me to obey with the gentle curl of her hand and I slowly moved towards her. She frowned at me as I sat as far from her as I could and her arms crossed for a few silent minutes. I tried to not fidget and fuss with the sheets to cover my nakedness because she did not try to cover her naked breasts at all. I stared down at the bedding for what seemed like forever.

I'd known this was too good to be true. I'd known it couldn't last. Christine deserved a better man than I, perhaps even needed a better man than I, but I needed her. I wanted her. I did not want to live one moment without her. She was mine! I did not want her to live with someone else or be with someone else! The thought appalled me. God had bodily made us perfect for one another, too bad for me that I was made an evil monster and she was an angel of light. I had to figure out how to convince her to stay with me...

"Erik?" her gentle voice touched my ears before her hand carrassed my arm. "No matter what we argue about, you realize that it does not change how I feel about you, right?"

I looked up at her cautiously, wondering how she so easily read my mind. "How you feel about me?"

"You know that I love you," she searched my face and then frowned. "You think I don't love you?"

"We were arguing..." my voice dried up as she cupped my chin to turn my eyes to hers.

"A tiny lover's quarrel," she tried to reassure me but my face felt like stone under her gentle fingers. "I admit that most things with us have been seamless and easy, but when you put yourself in harm's way, I am bound to be upset."

"You would have tried to stop me if I told you where I was going." I sounded like a stubborn child.

Her head bobbed, "Perhaps, but it would not have stopped you anyway and then I would not feel as if you were lying to me about where you were going."

We were still fighting! This was only going to get worse and worse until she could not stand even the sight of me, which was not easy to take in the first place.

"Erik?" I looked at her and I knew there was fear in my face. Once you've started to hope for a better life it becomes an all-consuming need to achieve. I was ruining my chance at happiness, my salvation was crumbling beneath me and I would fall into the blackness in my soul without her light to keep me here...

"Hold me?" she moved to my side and put her arms around my waist. I stonily obeyed her, stiffly putting my arm around her naked back. She sighed and rested her head on my shoulder.

Christine was so calm and why was she holding me if she hated me?

"Did I say the words I hate you?" she asked softly and I wondered if I'd spoken aloud.

I swallowed hard before answering her. "No."

"Did I curse your name and rip the ring from my finger to hurl it at your head?"

A surprised huff of laughter left me at the image she painted. I felt myself relaxing because of her ease and put both arms around her to hold her closer. My ring was still firmly on her finger. "No."

"People can have differences of opinion. You argue with Nadir all the time and yet it does not change how you care for him or how he cares for you." She was making an enormous amount of sense and I pulled back to look in her face.

"You are not angry about the book?"

"Angry?" her eyes rolled to the side, "Not angry, more embarrassed that I even looked at it. Then I got jealous."

"Jealous?" I couldn't help the incredulity, "Of a book?"

"Don't you dare make fun of me," she pointed one finger at my nose. "I was just starting to forgive you."

"You forgive me?" my face went soft with shock and wonder. She truly was a merciful angel and she was MY angel, no matter the scum I was born of.

Her fingers trailed over my deformed lips, "I only want the same honesty from you that you requested from me. If I'd known you were going out to threaten someone I would have stayed up to pray and wait for your return."

"But you were ill," I touched her cheek lightly and her golden eyes lifted to mine.

"I also would have kissed you much more soundly," a warm wave of emotion spilled through me.

"Speaking of kisses..." my fingers curled into her hair and her eyes fluttering closed was the only invitation I needed. I pressed my lips on hers and felt her answering movement with awe and thanks. She forgave me, she still loved me, she was still mine. All mine.

The kiss was gentle and we parted with a small smile.

"Now, what did make me very angry was you trying to leave our bed." She gave me a very firm look and my stomach trembled.

"I didn't think you would want me to stay." My voice was breathy and she shook her head at me.

"I don't think either one of us should do anymore thinking," she mumbled as she laid her head on my collarbone and put her arms around my waist. "All it does is cause trouble..."

"That is not the best thing to stop doing," I held her tightly wanting this argument to be done. "Besides that it may be impossible to actually stop yourself from thinking..."

"But your brain over thinks things, Erik. Just because I am angry does not mean I do not love you and just because you shocked me does not mean I want you gone. I am only shocked and angry. I will always love you, my heart." She squeezed me hard and I squeezed right back.

"I suppose I always assume that anger equals hatred. I'm so used to it working that way..."

Her hands tightened, "I know, but I need you to believe in us. I need you to trust me and trust the strength of our love. You are the one who told me it will never fail us and now I feel like you don't believe it anymore." She pulled back and I could see the tears glimmering in her eyes. "Nothing will ever make me turn from you. How many time must I swear it?"

"I'm so sorry, Christine, for all of this. I should have disclosed the nature of my business and I should never walk away from you when you are speaking to me. Even if you are cursing my name and throwing things at my head."

Christine's hand trailed down my scarred back. "I'm sorry too, Erik," she whispered sadly.

"Why are you apologizing?" I was takenaback by her soft words.

"I ruined our evening." She sounded quite upset by this and .

"You saved our evening," I reassured her. "You called me back to you. If I had walked out that door it would have been very bad for us. I can see that now, but in the heat of the moment I could only think that I should get out of your sight before it got any worse."

"But I want you in my sight," her eyes shone with her inner light. "Always."

"I love you," I whispered, cradling her head to my chest.

"I love you too," her muffled words made my heart beat faster.

How did I so easily mistrust our love? Was it not the thing of stories, this connection I felt with her? How could I dismiss it so quickly? I'd been ready to walk away from her when that was not something I was ever prepared to do. Did I not have full control of my own body and mind? Does the darkness inside me take control of my mind, coaxing me away from my angel, away from my salvation so it can remain in the dark? So I remain in the dark...

I held Christine tightly even after we lay back down in bed. I did not want to relinquish my hold on her because I suddenly felt that if I released her, the darkness in my head would find another way to come between us. I would not let it.

Never again would I mistrust this perfect feeling, this completion. Nothing could compare to it. Christine and I were mated souls. She was mine. I was hers. We belonged to each other and no power on earth or in my head would come between us.


	53. Homes and Hypnosis

**Author's note: End of the weekend treat!!**

**Well now. I have managed to write this chapter in just over the two weeks allotted time I gave myself! Woo-hoo!**

**I have been tossing around the idea of writing a chapter, soon, all from Meg's POV. Is that something any of you would be interested in? I know one of you would ;) but let me know, the rest of you, if you would like to visit Meg's brain. The story does not require her side of things but it would be fun and if y'all are interested then I will take the time to write it. Let me know and of course...**

**Enjoy!**

---

Christine

---

Friday morning I was waiting down the hall for Meg. We were going to the tailor this morning and she had to sweet talk her mother into letting her go. Their words had become heated so I walked down the hall to let them have privacy. Meghan knew how to finesse her mother and I had no worries that she would not be able to come with me.

My mind wandered to last night in Erik's arms and I felt my cheeks warm with colour. Erik had cooked a lovely meal for us to share but just before we sat down he took me roughly in his arms and kissed me. We allowed ourselves to be distracted quite heavily by each other and dinner was left without a single bite taken. By the time we emerged from the bedroom, hair mussed and draped in robes, our dinner was very cold. I was not sure if I should feel ashamed that my appetite for food was slowly dwindling while my appetite for Erik seemed to grow with every passing day.

I sighed thinking of how gentle and hesitant he'd been last night, as if our argument the night before still plagued him and he needed to make it up to me by seeking only my pleasure. And what a ridiculous argument it had been. My eyes dropped to the ground as I remembered my juvenile whining about my lack of knowledge and the ensuing argument.

Would I never learn that this man needed extra patience and things needed to be carefully thought out before I blurted them from my silly mouth?

"Chrissy!" I turned at the squeak of my shortened name and Meg was bouncing over.

"Chrissy?" I queried mildly and Meg shrugged.

"I get tired of saying Christine all the time. Maybe I should just say, you there!" she pointed at me and I smiled in return.

"What did you say to your mother?"

"I told her she was deterring me from acquiring a new, _free_ dress that may catch the eye of a rich man, who would get me out of her hair by marrying me." I laughed as we left the opera house.

There was a carriage waiting out front with a tall, elegantly dressed man leaning against the side. He straightened when we appeared and it was my Erik winking at me from under the brim of his hat, the white mask, bright in the morning light.

"Good morning, ladies," he purred as he took my hand and kissed it slowly.

"Good morning, Erik!" Meg singsonged.

"How are you, Meghan?" he asked politely as he helped me into the carriage first.

"Oh, fine now that I've shed my maternal nay sayer."

I sat in the curtained carriage and pretended not to watch as Erik bowed over Meg's hand. "Is your mother still causing issues for you?" His eyes sought hers with genuine care.

Meg covered Erik's hand with hers and leaned closer with a smile. "There is nothing you can do about it. She will be a beast until the day she dies. No one can hold her back from doing and saying whatever she wants. Kind of like me, huh?"

Erik laughed lightly, relaxing and helping Meg into the confined space, before promptly following us in.

"Are you coming with us?" I touched his leg and slid closer as he rapped the side to let the driver know we were ready to go.

"I will see you there safely, but I will not intrude upon your visit. I have quite a bit of work to see to today."

"So, can I really pick anything I want?" Meg sat forward excitedly.

"Anything you want," Erik nodded and I laced my fingers through his, preparing to enjoy the few moments I had with him. He looked down at me with a small smile. "And how are you this chilly morning?"

"Good," I said softly, our eyes locking as I recalled the way his sensuous hands had traveled my body when we woke this morning. He'd asked permission to warm his 'chilly' hands on my flesh and I agreed, of course. I thought he might be thinking the same thing as his gaze darkened.

"Blah," Meg gagged and I glared at her for interrupting. "Can you two keep it contained for two seconds?" She looked out the window and shifted in her seat. "Makes me uncomfortable to be in a confined space with you."

"Forgive us, Meghan," Erik was smoothly apologetic. "I miss my diva dreadfully, but you should not have to endure such private moments."

"Thank you, _Erik_." Meg put emphasis on his name and gave me a pointed look and I stuck out my tongue at her and settled my arms around one of Erik's so I could cuddle to his shoulder.

The ride was much too short and Erik began helping us out as he informed us of the plans he'd made.

"The carriage will return once I relieve it and will wait here to take you back to the opera. You should be back in time for the afternoon run through."

"If I'm not, Maman will skin me," Meg grumbled and I couldn't help laughing.

"And you will talk yourself out of any resulting trouble." I took her hand and we entered the quiet clothing store through the door that said they were closed. "Are they even open yet?" I hesitated as the bell rang above the door and Erik helped me in with his hand on the small of my back.

"Only for you," he glanced around and a short, balding, well-dressed man came from the back room.

"Monsieur Erik. Bonjour, Mademoiselles," he nodded at us both but his eyes stayed on Erik. He looked frightened and I glanced at Erik to see if he was doing anything particularly terrifying. His eyes met mine briefly and his tense, stern face softened just a tad.

"I must go," he reached for my hand and I thought it was to kiss good bye, but he led me forward a few steps. "Monsieur Benoit, may I present, my fiancée, Christine Daae. Ensure that you do all you can to please her."

M. Benoit bobbed his head at me but still barely looked. He was keeping his eyes on Erik for now and I fought not to roll mine. Was a little, white mask over half his face so intimidating?

"Oui, Monsieur Erik. Whatever she desires, I will make it so." The man was practically grovelling to us.

"And her maid, Meghan Giry, also needs to be appropriately outfitted." Erik's voice was very strong and demanding and the man bobbed his head continuously, reminding me of a toy I had as a child.

"Oui, Monsieur."

"I will leave you now." He turned to go but I grabbed his sleeve.

"Will I see you tonight after rehearsal?" His hard, blank face unmolded as his eyes warmed with his love for me.

"I will try. There is much I must take care of today. I will be later than usual tonight, but I will find you." His fingers traced my cheek and then he was gone with the ringing of a bell and a cold breeze from the door.

Monsieur Benoit straightened and smiled at us, shrugging off the meekness he'd displayed for Erik. "Now, Mlle Daae, Mlle Giry, if you will follow me, we can look at some sample drawings and fabrics."

We were sat comfortably and shown a dozen different fabrics to choose Meg's dress from. She adored a beautiful burnt orange color and I agreed it would look marvelous with her hair and eyes. She chose a newer style and then suddenly they were both looking at me.

"Do you have any preferences?" the tailor asked politely, draping a luxurious white fabric over his arm. I fingered the lush fabric bashfully. I didn't know what to say. I was used to making my own dresses or having them bought by a mysterious angel who knew my exact measurements without touching me...

"Not particu..." Meg grabbed me.

"Christine, don't be silly! What about all you told me?" I gave her a curious look and she grinned. "Remember the tight sash and full skirt and long sleeves?" I fought the urge to gape at her in wonder and she turned to Monsieur Benoit with a lecturer's air. "Something that shows her neck with a graceful scoop," she gestured to her neck, drawing a line in the air. "Long tight sleeves and a satin sash or something intricate around the waist. Perhaps a bow at the back, but most importantly a full skirt that looks like clouds."

Monsieur Benoit had pulled out a pad of paper and was scribbling quickly while I tried to remember everything Meg had said and picture it in my mind.

"Something like this?" he showed us a rough sketch of a dress and my mouth finally dropped open. Meghan answered for me.

"Oh Christine! It's just like you described. Can you show us some fabrics?" She batted her lashes at the poor man and he went to fetch them.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, not liking how she very efficiently ordered Monsieur Benoit about.

"I know you." She patted my knee," You'd be polite and just take what was given instead of asking for exactly what you want." I was stuptefied.

"And how did you know I wanted _that_?"

"Well, you would not show your bosom on your wedding day, where as I might," she waggled her brows playfully and then sat up straight, fixing her skirt in a ladylike manner as she sensed my unease. "You have a tiny waist so why not show it off and who doesn't want a poofy dress to walk down the aisle in. Do you like it?" Her blue gaze rose hopefully to stare into mine. I did like it. Tremendously. What I didn't like was how the tailor had hopped to her command, but then, would I have commanded him to do anything at all? Was I not here to get a wedding dress of my very own, done as quickly as possible?

"I do," I reached for her hand solemnly, grateful that she knew me so well, and she knudged me playfully.

"You are supposed to save those words for your wedding day!" I giggled in surprise.

"Maybe I need to practice," I joked and glanced at the door the tailor had disappeared into. "Speaking of practice, is your mother very mad at you?"

Meg shrugged, "She's mad a lot. If it's not one thing, it's another. You get used to it after awhile."

My heart squeezed at the calm admission and I did reach out to hold her hand.

"I love the dress you described to him. It will be perfect. I could never have come up with that on my own. I love it! Thank you so much for taking charge."

"Yea!" She squeezed me in a tight hug, her jovial mood returning, and M. Benoit entered with several white confections draped about his arms. "Oooo," Meg made a comical pursed face and love for her swelled inside me. How could Mme Giry not see this wonderful person her own daughter was?

---

Erik

---

Bernard left me a note saying he would visit the site today and I wanted to be there when he did. I needed to be on top of this build like I had neglected to be the last time around. Once we appraised this situation it would also be a good time to discuss my private build that needed to occur. I would require help for it, as much as did not want the help. More than my desire to build Christine's house with only my two hands, was the desire to have it built before we wed. That would be nothing short of a miracle, judging from how impatient my angel was, but I hoped to have at least our bedroom completed. I needed to bring her somewhere other than my cave after we were officially married. A hotel would work, but I hated the thought of having other people around us.

I directed the carriage to Nadir's and then let it leave to set up post outside Benoit's shop. A quick walk to the stable and I was ready to make my way to the site. Midnight had not been run since Sunday, which was far too long for a horse of his caliber. I had hoped to sell him one day for a profit, but the longer I had him, the more I liked the idea of keeping him.

I could imagine Midnight siring many fine horses and thought I should perhaps plan a stable for Christine and I as well. If I bought her a fine filly to ride I could even try my hand at horse rearing. My head was full of future plans for myself and Midnight when I arrived on the site. Bernard was not yet present and I allowed the horse to graze while I waited in the shade of a tree.

Bernard arrived ten minutes past the time he'd mentioned in his letter and there were a few workers in tow. I hadn't thought of that possibility and cursed my stupidity. Of course he would need workers with him. I let them near without revealing myself but when Bernard saw my horse his face went completely shocked.

I stepped out from around the tree and he approached me quickly. "Erik! Are there changes I am not aware of?"

"No." I pulled my hat down a little further over my mask as one of the men with him got their first look at me.

"Are we to continue as discussed?"

"Yes." I watched as the men ignored me as best they could and efficiently laid out tools and began marking the ground.

"Are you here to oversee?" Bernard was having trouble understanding why I was here, since I had never before visited a site in daylight hours, and I led him away from the others.

"I do wish to proliferate this build as quickly as possible, but I have another project that I need to speak to you about."

"Another..." he trailed off as his eyes flicked to the men. "Arrêt!" He barked out and marched over to them. He instructed them that they were marking off the wrong area and that the house should be built at such an angle to allow the morning sun to spill into the kitchen and to make the siphoning of water easier. I watched him order them about and thought he did a marvelous job. Perhaps I should give him the reigns on this project to free up more of my own time for Christine's house.

And as soon as the thought floated into my head I dismissed it. I would never be able to relinquish control to that extent. If my name was attached to it, then there was no way I would let anyone but ME give the final word.

"Forgive me, Erik." Bernard came back quickly, brushing down his jacket as if it had been ruffled like the feathers of a bird.

"You are taking care of my business, there is nothing to apologize for." I replied curtly. "Now, this other project..." I led him from our workers for a few minutes so I could show him the preliminary plans for Christine's house. His eyes darted over the sketches, widening as he went. "Can you let me know what you think, many of these ideas have never been attempted," I prodded and he began pointing out parts.

"That is brilliant, a window in the roof, and who would have thought to put the cellar below the backyard with access from the kitchen. This window bench is intriguing, does it hang right over the water? Is that a wall of only window, is that structurally sound?" His surprised words went on but I was finding his awe engaging where as before I'd always cut him off at the first signs of any babbling. This was Christine's doing. Her own endearing awe and attention to anything I did was making me see it in others. I could see the intelligence burn in Bernard's eyes as they worshiped my drawings and a small amount of smugness made me straighten my spine. Perhaps he worked for me for reasons other than my money.

I let him talk himself out, hiding my own reaction to his engineering awe and then rolled up the plans. "I will not have just anyone help me with this. I want only the best of our men."

"I would not dream of providing anything less." He assured me with one determined nod. "Will we begin at once?"

"Yes."

"We should break ground before it snows," he looked up at the blue sky. "I'd say another week or so of this weather and the snow will most likely come by Christmas."

We parted ways after I'd borrowed a few tools that I needed and made a promise to contact him. He really did not need my help on this build until the walls were going in. Then I would be here day and night insuring that I missed nothing. I rode my stallion back to Nadir's and out to the site that would one day soon hold my home.

I began to smile as I walked off the walls and marked the grass. Technically, any place that housed Christine was my home. Actually I think it was her eyes that were my home, or perhaps her arms. Her lips were surely my homecoming, and those exploring hands...

I clenched my jaw as my thoughts turned entirely carnal and I stared at the pool of water where I'd already imagined swimming naked with Christine on a night off the full moon. The moonlight would cast her in an ethereal glow as we swam and frolicked and then made love on the grass.

I shook myself like a wet dog. Those dreams would have to wait a long frigging time! It was winter for Christ's sake! Are you planning to freeze your beautiful bride? Let's keep the love making indoors until the flowers are blooming again, Erik.

I doubled checked all my marks for the placement of walls and then started digging.

The rest of the day ticked by with the swish of my shovel. I barely took time for rest. I could rest tonight in Christine's arms. There was no time for resting now. Bernard was very right about beating the snow. If the foundation was in before the snow, then work could continue mostly unfettered by the weather, but if the ground freezes, so does your work. I finished digging a good portion of the layout before the sun set and when it did I gathered up my tools and headed for the main house.

I'd managed to get my clothing quite dirty and brushed off the majority of the dirt and removed my shoes before entering Nadir's home. I went looking and found him in the dining room eating dinner alone. I stopped in the hall as my mind took me back to that day so many years ago when I ate with him for the first time in my borrowed clothing and bare feet.

I began to smile, as he flipped the page of his book, and then strode in as I removed the hard, white mask from my face.

"Evening, father." I greeted him succinctly and plunked down in my vacant chair.

"Erik?" He looked shocked but very pleased. "Whatever are you doing here," he glanced down, "With no shoes?"

"They were covered in dirt. How are you?" I tossed the mask onto the table and helped myself to the water.

"Very well. Why were your shoes covered in dirt?" I should have known a simple answer would not do. He was every bit as curious as Christine.

"Because I was knee deep in dirt for the better part of the day."

"You look it," his eyes skimmed over me and he closed his book. "Have you started your home then?" he smiled as if he's been looking forward to this day.

"Yes," I took a long drink of water, closing my eyes at the sweet taste. I emptied my glass and sat back with a sigh. "On the road to completion."

"Completion?" he laughed, "You've only begun!" I knew he was right, but there was something about the beginning of a project that made me feel inspired. I would never leave anything incomplete and so, the first step always foretold the completion.

"Even the longest journey begins with a single step," I replied sagely.

---

Nadir

---

"Even the longest journey begins with a single step," Erik replied seriously and I couldn't help laughing again.

"The journey will be long if you try to shoulder all of the burden yourself." I easily gave him my own advice. With his perfectionist attitude I doubted he would let anyone help him, but I also knew with his desire to do everything in his life by the rules of some book I had yet to see, he would want it built before they wed. Which gave him no time at all.

"I've notified Bernard that we now have two homes to build," his eyes narrowed slightly and he looked like a belligerent toddler. There were smudges of dirt across his forehead and up his smooth cheek and I could see the fatigue in his eyes though he was very good at hiding it from me.

"Are you hungry?" I gestured to the food, determined to change the subject and keep him from becoming cross with me and my meddling ways.

His eyes raked over my plate, "I have not eaten since this morning..."

"Then you are hungry." I determined and then rang my bell for Berou before Erik could stop me. He slumped back in his chair just like a petulant child.

"Why did you have to call _him_ in?" Erik sulked with his arms crossed and I fought not to smile at his childlike tendencies.

"_He_ will bring you a plate and then you may join me." Erik mumbled something about having two legs of his own and begin perfectly able to fetch his own plate, but he stopped and held out one foot towards me. We both looked down at his pristine, white foot and he wiggled his toes.

"I suppose I shouldn't tromp about your home like a child in my bare feet."

I laughed and picked up my wineglass, "Tromp about all you like. My home is yours. I may even be able to procure a bib and rattle for you." I hid my smirk behind my glass as Erik fake laughed.

"Har har har..." he rolled his eyes and Berou popped in.

"Fetch my son a plate, would you, Berou?"

"Oui, monsieur." He disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared and was back momentarily with a plate and utensils and another wineglass. He set them all in front of Erik and when Erik thanked him quietly Berou glanced at me and then hurriedly left.

"He hates me," Erik sighed. "I have told you this, but you refuse to believe it." He scooped some vegetables onto his plate.

"Oh, I believe you, but hate is too strong a word. He dislikes you, you make him and his wife uncomfortable. We were unaware of the pull in your music, but now that we are, we can take steps to not have you play when they are near." I made light of it all because honestly, nothing could flag my mood. Having Erik stride in and call me father had filled me with paternal pride. He was a fine gentleman and a magnificent businessman. His insecurities and his quick anger were minor issues when compared to his giving nature. His fiancée loved him dearly for who he was and more each day I was realizing how much I did as well. So many wasted years...

"If that is the only problem they have with me," Erik mumbled as he ate some of the stewed dinner. I poured him some wine as I shrugged.

"Why worry about everyone around you and their acceptance? You have people who love you. Are we not enough? Do you want more?"

Erik's fork clattered to his plate and he hastily picked it back up as I studied the sudden tension in him. No sense pretending he did not just get extremely uncomfortable.

"Have I said something?" I queried gently as I resumed eating. Erik shrugged like his shirt was tight and kept his eyes on the food.

After a few silent, tense minutes he said quietly, "Do you want more?"

"More what?" I was confused and he rolled his eyes to me.

"That is what you said."

"And?" he was not speaking clearly or I was not understanding easily. Either way we were confusing each other, and he covered his face with one hand to grumble incoherently.

"Never mind." He began eating again, though now he did not seem to be enjoying it as much. I put down my fork.

"Erik?" I said his name firmly and those stormy grey eyes flicked up. "I have upset you, as I tend to do again and again. I am sorry. I have a rather large mouth and my foot finds its way in there time and again. Could we perhaps relax a little and start this conversation over?"

His lips quirked as he stared down at his plate. "That would be nice, father."

"A toast then," I picked up my wineglass and he did as well, his eyes calming and coming to my face with curiosity. "To the first step in new journeys." A rare smile pulled his lips apart and our glasses chimed together, ringing with the promise of what was to come.

---

Christine

---

We returned from the tailor's in time for afternoon rehearsal and Meg danced her heart out, to make her mother extra happy I assumed, while I sang with the chorus and Carlotta savored her precious limelight. I did not miss the sly glances my way as she stepped to the front of the stage. Her attitude was beginning to annoy me. I always tried to be polite and kind to her and she never showed me the same courtesy.

"She is a witch," Meg joked when we were back in her room after dinner. "She boils rat tails and eats them for lunch."

"Eww," I grimaced and began combing my hair before sighing. "She hates me."

"Oh yeah," Meg agreed with a hearty nod. "She would probably drop you off the top of the opera house if she could."

My mouth formed a surprised oh as Meg laughed. "Don't say such things." I couldn't hide my shock and she took the comb from my hands to help me with my hair.

"Sorry Chrissy, I know you don't like talk like that."

I made a face at her in the mirror. "I don't like, Chrissy, either."

"Oh, little Miss I-get-whatever-I-want." Meg tickled my ribs and I tried to fend her off.

"Meghan!" I started laughing and struggling to my feet.

"So, you think that just because Erik gives you everything you want and you had a tailor licking your boots all morning, that everybody has to do what you say, and abide by your wishes, and bow and scrape to Princess Chrissy!" We were laughing and struggling with each other, both trying to tickle the other when a knock sounded on her door.

"Eep," a tiny sound escaped me as I recognized the knock. I covered my mouth with both hands and looked at Meg, who was more than a little bedraggled.

"Is it Erik?" she whispered and I nodded excitedly, glad he was finally here. Not that I didn't enjoy my time with Meg, but my time with Erik was un-comparable.

Meg smoothed her hair from her face and straightened her dress as I did the same and then I looked eagerly to the door while Meg opened it. Erik's eyes found mine quickly but Meg blocked him from coming in.

"No!" She put a hand on his chest and I almost moved to pull her back. Erik looked down in surprise and I could see a smudge of dirt on his forehead. "You are only allowed into my room if you solemnly promise to not look at Christine with fawn eyes."

Erik relaxed and fixed Meg with a raised brow. "I do not make fawn eyes at her."

"Yes, you do, and you have to promise no yucky, private stuff. This is my room and my rules." Meg tossed her hair back and crossed her arms with a smile.

"Fine, Meghan. I will not even touch her," he promised and his easy pledge dampened my excitement considerably. Meg finally allowed him entrance, but she did not make me promise to not touch him, so my hands found the edges of his jaw easily.

"You're all dirty," I brushed at the dirt on his face before quickly kissing his uncovered cheek and lips.

"Hello, Christine," he purred my name and I saw Meghan shudder out of the corner of my eye.

"None of that!" she whipped around, sounding breathless and I turned from Erik to study her. Meg's bright blue eyes danced between Erik and I before she sat down heavily in front of her mirror. "Christine, please, no kissing." She began combing her hair and my hands dropped from Erik.

"I'm sorry," I said softly as I approached her back. "I kind of can't control myself around him," I confessed to my best friend and sister. Erik already knew, so it was no confession for him.

Meg smiled for me but her eyes darted nervously to Erik's reflection. "What did you do today, Erik?"

"I dug a large hole."

She gave Erik a strange look, but it did explain the dirt. I took the comb from Meg's hands to keep my own occupied so they wouldn't wander over to Erik.

"He's building me a house," I whispered in explanation to Meg and a genuine smile curled her mouth.

"Princess Chrissy and her mansion..." Meg trilled with fluttering lashes and Erik came closer.

"Chrissy?" he queried and I could tell he didn't like the nickname either.

"I told her to not call me that," I tattled and Meg laughed.

"Fine, fine, I'll come up with a better one."

"What is wrong with, Christine?" Erik asked easily as he leaned against the wall beside her powder table. I could see Meg's eyes following him intently in her reflection and jealousy burned slowly inside me. I knew she loved him as a friend and guardian, maybe even as an older brother, but watching her gaze at him was hard to take. Instead I concentrated on braiding her hair for her as she'd done for me.

"Do you know that when you say her name, your voice curls strangely?" Meg asked softly. I saw Erik stiffen, though he barely moved to betray his unease.

"I was not aware of that." His brow came down, "Does it bother you, Meghan?" Their eyes were locked with one another and I was a spectator to their conversation. Meg searched Erik's hard, severe face.

"Maman has told me things that I would never have believed...but I wonder if I should believe them." Her voice was small but she was boldly staring right into Erik's face.

"Ask me." He uncrossed his arms and stood away from the wall, but Meg stayed silent. "Ask me," he said again, his intense eyes testing her will and I could see Meg biting her lip. "Or do you believe that I would only lie about it?" Meg looked upset.

"No, I don't think you would lie to me," her lips trembled. "But...I...I don't want to ask in front of Christine." I had no clue what they were talking about, but what could Meg not want to say in front of me. Did she want to ask Erik for his favor?

"I have no secrets from Christine." Erik's eyes flicked to mine briefly.

"See, you just said her name again and it...it wasn't as obvious as the first time but it shivers and trembles on the air when you say it." My mouth dropped open. My name shivers when Erik speaks it?

"So ask me, Meghan." Erik sounded tired now.

"Have you hypnotized Christine?" My already open mouth was showing no signs of closing soon.

"No."

"But _my_ name doesn't shiver when you say it."

"Perhaps, because as dear a friend as you are to me, I am not in love with you."

"I know you've never hypnotized me."

"I swear I have not and never will, Meghan."

"But you've hypnotized Maman."

"Not for any harmful purpose, I only needed information from her."

"Why did you not just tell her to forget it ever happened?"

Erik glanced at me quickly, his eyes showing how worried he was with this conversation. "I did not think it was possible to remember being hypnotized. What I do is not exactly documented in science."

Meg stared at him for a few silent minutes while she chewed her lip and I stood like a codfish with my mouth open to catch flies and Erik looked sadly from Meg to me and back again. "Well Erik," Meg sighed. "Next time you hypnotize her, could you give her directions to forget it happened? She has been going on and on about you speaking my name and trapping me in your claws and forcing me into evil situations and destroying me and on and on until my ears are bleeding." Meg tossed her braided hair over her shoulder with careless ease and glanced at me. "You should close your mouth, Chrissy, it's not very ladylike."

I shut my mouth with a snap and Meg stood to hug me.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you both," she whispered in my ear as she held me tight. "You should go now. It looks like you two have some things to talk about."

Erik and I left, returning to my room quickly, but he did not take us straight through the mirror. He sat on my bed and his shoulders slumped forward tiredly.

"There are questions in your eyes, my dear," he said to his feet.

"Of course there are." I knelt in front of him. "I knew you could hypnotize people but I never realized you use it on a regular basis."

He sat up, "I do not! I only used it on Antoinette because I needed to find out all she knew about me...about the Singing Corpse." I took one of his long hands in mine so he wouldn't feel too upset, but I realized I needed to know more and was surprised I hadn't asked before when his talent was first made aware to me. Now I wanted to know everything about it.

"How does it work?"

"If I say a person's name with a certain inflection I seem to be able to force my will on them. Some people are stronger and can resist it if they concentrate, but most people, especially if I'm only telling them to do trivial things, as in, walk a different direction or give me some information, then they comply."

I pondered this. "So, Meg was worried you had hypnotized me because she hears a tremble when you say my name?"

He took both my hands and bent over me, his eyes bright with conviction. "I have never purposely hypnotized you. It must be because of how much I love your name. I love to say your name, I love the way it rolls on my tongue, but I've never spoken it...that way."

I smiled and laid a gentle kiss on Erik's knuckles, "I know that, my love. I only wanted clarity on Meg's concern."

"Ma chardonnerette," he cupped my cheek in one hand. "I may have done terrible things in my past but it is firmly behind me. You have shown me the light." His hands framed my face. "You have shown me the only way I wish to live and that is with you by my side."

"Could you try it on me? So I know what it's like?" he pulled away and looked horrified.

"NO!" I followed him as he stood to get away from me and my request.

"Why not? Just say my name, tell me to flap my arms like a chicken and then release me."

"NO!" He stopped in front of my table and hugged himself with his back turned and I paused behind him.

His obvious unease at testing his voice on me made me ask, "Will it hurt me?"

"No," he said quietly, his arms relaxing a little.

"Then why not test it, Erik?" I gave him time to answer and he took his time. I counted the breaths that cycled in and out of my lungs and got to sixty four before he spoke.

"What are all these letters?"

It was not what I was expecting and I had to ask him to repeat himself.

"These letters?" He bent to remove some papers from my waste basket and I quickly reached to snatch them from his hands.

"Just letters from people who...who enjoyed my singing and want to meet me." They were all invitations from men and I did not think Erik would like to see them.

"From people? Or from men?" he asked with narrowed eyes and I tore up the pages and threw them back in my waste basket.

"From men who are interested in Diva Daae, not in Christine Daae and besides, what does it matter? I have not answered any of them and do not plan to." I crossed my arms and narrowed my own eyes at him. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

Erik looked slightly chagrined and I tsked at him. "You are the one who told me to expect _that_." I pointed at the garbage in the garbage pail and Erik braced his hands on the table, his shoulders rounding forward.

"I was changing the subject," he admitted and I let my hand run down his curved back.

"Why are you afraid to test your hypnosis on me?"

"It is an evil talent and I never wanted to use it on you."

"Talent, yes, but evil?" I sounded unbelieving and Erik whipped around to grab me by the arms.

"It is EVIL!" His face was angry and hurt as he shook me slightly. "I won't use it on you!"

"Please, calm down," I tried to put my hands on him but he wheeled away from me.

"A talent like that is pure Evil!" He gesticulated angrily. "I can make people hurt others. I can make them hurt themselves. I can force you to do things you would never do!"

"But you don't use it that way," I reassured not only him, but myself, by saying it outloud. He slowed his pacing and stared down at his feet.

"No," he said softly.

"Use your talent on me so we can see what it is like from both sides." He looked at me sadly, all the sadness in the world was gathered in that one look. "Erik," I reached for him once more, hoping he would allow me to touch him this time. "I just want to feel what it is like."

"And I can not refuse you anything," he sounded hopelessly distressed and I kissed his lips as best as I could from my lower vantage point. He barely kissed me in return and I wondered if my request was too much for him, but he suddenly said my name and everything but his voice went out of my head.

I waited for the voice to speak to me.

"Flap your arms like a chicken," the voice commanded and I tried to fight the urge to stick my hands in my armpits, but I could not. I wiggled my elbows up and down a few times and the voice repeated my name and I felt my senses rush back to me.

I laughed out loud. "That was amazing!"

He covered his face with both his hands and whispered, "That was awful."

"No, my love," I tried to pry his hands from his face. "It felt strange and wonderful all at once. Your voice felt very powerful, like it had the power to lift me right off my feet and carry me away."

"The blank look on your face..."

"I'm right here," I held him in my arms. I wanted him to test his skill on me again. I wanted him to try telling me to forget the hypnotism to see if it would work. He needed to know how his voice worked on people, but he was quite upset. "Erik, my heart..." I crooned at him and tried to intice him to kiss me.

His trembling lips met mine and I kissed him passionately, pressing my mouth over his and twining my fingers into his hair. His hands hesitated for only a moment before crushing me in a tight embrace.

---

Erik

---

I kissed her like I was coming undone. I certainly felt like I was.

Seeing her blank face, her eyes devoid of their sparkling light, had sent a dagger through me. I knew using my evil on her would be dreadful but I hadn't quite grasped how painful it would be to see her light filled eyes empty of life.

The mask was pressing hard into her face so I tore my wanting mouth from hers and clutched her to me. "My love," I breathed against her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"For doing as I asked? Don't be silly, Erik" she chided me gently as her hands caressed my back. "But...Will it make you terribly upset if I ask you to do it again?" Her sweet angel's voice queried mildly.

I squeezed her in my arms. "Why? What for? There is no reason to do it again."

"You should test your skill on someone you trust." She tried to push back so she could look at me, but I wanted to hold her as close as possible, so I kept my arms tight about her. She sighed in resignation and embraced me tightly in return. "How will you know if your commands work if you don't test them? I don't mind you testing them on me. Just ask me a silly question and then tell me to forget it. We will see if it works."

"I don't like this," I whispered over her head, but it seemed that I would be doing it again since I was physically unable to say no to Christine and she was bent on being hypnotized.

"I trust you," she was so calm and collected about having me control her mind. I hated the thought. I despised the thought because if I was in control of her mind, then it was not even her. It was not my angel or my songbird. It was a doll with her face and body, but it was not her.

She sat primly on her bed and waited for me to gain the courage. I paced back and forth trying to recall every person I had ever hypnotized. Most of them had then been promptly killed by my own two hands. Was there ever an instance where it had failed completely? Did one of my subjects not come back to themselves when I released them?

I could not recall if it had ever happened, but I was afraid today, that it very well might happen.

"What should I ask you?" I glanced at her calm, golden radiance. She shrugged delicately.

"Something you know the answer to."

I knelt before her and took her hands in mine, kissing her dainty fingers one by one. "I do not want to do this. What use is there in discovering all the nuances of my evil talents if I plan to not use them?"

"But what if you need to use them, like with Mme Giry? What if using it would get you out of trouble? You should be able to rely on any skill to get yourself out of trouble. And if the person you used it on doesn't even remember you speaking to them, then...then that would be marvelous!"

I looked up at her with an unbelieveing expression on my face.

"Erik, trust me," she gazed at me as her fingers brushed my mask like it was part of my face. Her subtle touch over the mask, asked me to trust her in this as I trusted her with my face and I took her hands in mine to kiss them both again.

I sat back from her and turned my evil tongue on its side as I spoke her beautiful, angelic name. Her hands tightened on mine even as her eyes lost focus and I took comfort that perhaps her body still knew me when her mind did not. I suppose it was why I asked the most ridiculous question.

"Tell me who you love."

"Papa," she said sweetly and I smiled slightly. She still had to be within her own mind to answer my question in that manner, but I wanted more reassurance.

"Tell me the name of the man you love."

"Erik," a smile flickered over her face as if trying to surface and I wanted more.

"Tell me what it is you love about him."

Her mouth opened and she paused before saying, "Everything."

"Tell me what he looks like."

"He has magnificent grey eyes and a smile that could stop a train."

One of said smiles pulled on my lips and I had to refrain from chuckling at my precious angel. Even in this controlled state she was still herself. I didn't understand how it was possible, but I did have one more test before I released her. If it didn't work then she would know everything we just spoke of.

"At the sound of your name, you will remember none of this conversation. It will be as if we did not speak just now. Do you comprehend?"

"Yes."

I was about to say her name when another question came to mind.

"Has your man Erik ever scared you?"

"Yes." My heart clenched at the one word and I could not release her just yet.

"Tell me of the instances when Erik has scared you."

"When the other man boils up in his eyes, it scares me. It's not my Erik anymore."

I bowed my head over her hands and closed my eyes tightly. It was not often that I spoke to the Lord, but in that moment I prayed quickly that she would come back to herself completely, and that I could control that other man inside me, before I spoke her name.

"Oh," she said softly and glanced around the room before sagging. I caught her easily and my heart tripped in my chest.

"Christine? Look at me? Are you alright? Speak to me?" She was blinking like she'd been asleep and I cursed myself for bending to her will.

"Erik?" her brow furrowed. "Did you try it? Did you hypnotize me?"

"Yes dear. Your experiment has worked," I traced her cheek with my fingertips.

"I feel tired though," her lashes fluttered weakly. "The first time felt so exhilarating."

"Perhaps because I've forced you to forget a piece of your life." Why was I such a weak willed ninny when it came to this girl?

Her hands began smoothing over my chest. "What did you ask me?" she inquired sleepily.

"The name of the man you love." She stopped and pushed me away.

"Did you think it was possible, my answer might not be your name?" her eyes flashed angrily.

"It was a question I knew the answer to." I replied softly and Christine looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry, Erik." Her hands came back to me quickly, "I feel out of sorts right now."

"I know." I held her close and swore that I would never again use my voice on her.


	54. Management

**Author's note: It is the weekend and you get a treat! The next installment...but before you go any further!!!! As you are reading try to think of something to say at the end. Is it really _that_ time consuming to say hello at the end? I've worked so hard to get this out to all of you, couldn't you take one minute to write a little something to me?**

*******bats eyelashes in a persuasive manner***

**Pretty please with sugar on top?? **

**Enjoy!**

---

Erik

---

I rolled over in bed Saturday morning and sighed as I gazed at the empty side of the bed. I'd left Christine upstairs last night because she'd fallen into a deep sleep after using my wickedness on her. I paced her room for an hour waiting for her to wake but she remained asleep and so I had made the decision to leave her there to sleep off the effects of my persuasive, evil voice. I grumbled as I rose from bed, annoyed with how weak I became as soon as she decided she wanted something. I had to learn to tell her no eventually. I couldn't just say yes all the time to every demand she made.

I was quite worried that there would be lingering effects of my having erased our conversation. I'd never thought to release someone with one of my suggestions still in their mind. The only time I'd ever left people hypnotized is when I would be killing them in a few hours, but even those people were not left with suggestions, they were in a controlled, pain free state of mind the entire time.

I wanted to watch over Christine all night, but to stay up there until she woke was not the smartest thing for me to do. I'd been lured to stay at her side before and ended up having a seizure on the floor of her room. So, I left her last night and made off to my cave to wash and recuperate. An entire day of digging had drained my energy and though I missed my innocent lover's warm touch, I was glad to swallow the laudanum last night and just collapse.

Today was an important day and it was a good thing I was well rested. I glued the rubber in place and dressed in a nice suit, but not too nice. I did not want the managers to think I was made of money and could afford to keep raising my price. I made my way above early, hoping to visit with Christine before I had to meet Cameron.

She was awake, and just seeing her straightening the blankets on her bed had my heart hammering in my chest. I slid the mirror out of the way and embraced her from behind.

"Are you well, my love?" I asked with urgency.

"Erik." She slithered around and clasped me in her arms. "I was hoping you would come. I missed being next to you last night."

"I know the feeling," I cupped her chin to gaze into her eyes.

The familiar golden fire balmed me before I gave in to the urge to kiss her thoroughly. Our hands wandered while our lips and tongues mated and I backed her onto her bed and laid her down to press her into her perfectly straightened sheets. Her arms tangled around my neck and we lost ourselves in the moment. We were both fully dressed, but our bodies still hungered for each other. It was tangible in every sigh, every breath, and every touch that our need was mutual. Our love was still a beautiful miracle of awesome proportions and my heart soared that it had not been lost in one foolish moment of weakness.

I slowed my assault to bury my face in her neck and take in her delicate scent. "I love you."

"Mmmm I love you too." She played her fingers through my hair and then suddenly stopped. "I've completely wrecked your hair, Erik." She sounded upset and I smiled as I rose to help her stand back up.

"It can be salvaged," I ran my fingers through it a few times and glanced sideways at my reflection. It was good enough. I straightened my jacket as Christine fussed over a few strands. "It's fine, pet."

"You were perfect before I messed you all up." Her words rang in my head and I thanked God that she was still perfect. If my evil had lingered on her...

I tried to put those thoughts from my head while she was fixated on my hair, but I took her hands in mine to stop their fussing. "Do you feel normal this morning?" I couldn't resist checking as I twirled a stray curl around my finger and caressed her cheek with the softness.

"As normal as ever, except that I woke up alone," her bottom lip jutted out in a pout and I could not resist leaning down to nibble it carefully. We could not stop there and I sucked her protruding lip into my mouth and kissing her soundly. Her hands traveled around my waist and down over my backside.

"Christine..." I growled, as her hands wandered around my hips and down the front of my thighs.

"I'm trying to leave your hair alone," she breathed as her fingers grazed my cock.

"So you are teasing other areas instead?" A smile was forming on my mouth, making it difficult to continue kissing her, and she giggled.

"Other more exciting areas..." she slid her palm down the length of my hard shaft and I groaned in her neck.

"Christine, we can not...ahh," my words of protest were dying in my throat as Christine rubbed me gently.

"I know," she whispered, her hands skirting back around me to press our bodies. "This fire inside me is uncontrollable..." her breath shuddered in and out and she pulled her hands away from me completely. We stood inches apart staring intently into each other's eyes.

"The same fire burns in me as well," I said softly, resisting the urge to check the time and figure out if there was enough of it to be very naughty.

"Next time you decide to sleep elsewhere, just bring me with you."

An easy smile spread my lips. "Was I to carry you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes?"

"Could you not rouse me?" her brow furrowed in concern and I shook my head.

"I did not try. You needed to sleep." Her arms came around my body and her forehead rested on my chest.

"I needed my husband," she nuzzled me and I chuckled.

"I am not yet your husband, but I will be soon," I vowed.

"I can hardly wait," she squeezed me tightly.

"Mmm hmm," I held her against me, reveling in her warm embrace. "If I recall, you wanted to hide for an entire month," I teased her and she laughed nervously. "Do you think a month will be long enough to quench this fire between us?" My question was meant as a jest but Christine pulled away to gaze up at me.

"A lifetime is not long enough for me." Her honest admission had me kissing her again and it was another few minutes before we parted ways. I was meeting Cameron before rehearsal and our plan was to watch until the first break and then approach the managers. Hopefully they would see us right away and we could acquire ownership of the opera house immediately. I hoped they were not too greedy or too stubborn. I was not the most patient man and if they began to show signs of...

I halted in my step as a terribly wicked idea formed in my head.

If the managers showed signs of difficulty, I could just hypnotize them. They would not even remember it.

That was a horrid idea, but as I made my way towards where Cameron would meet me, it kept festering in my mind. I would only use it as a last resort. Only if they refused to sell. I would only use it if we had no other option.

I entered the grand hall from behind Cameron, as if he was expecting me to come from the front entrance. I felt slightly sheepish as I came up beside him.

"Good morning, Erik." He turned as he nodded politely and I returned the gesture.

"Cameron," he looked calm and comfortable. Two emotions that were the furthest from me at the moment. Christine had done a very good job of rousing me and my body was still tingling from her touch. Thinking of the meeting with the managers had added to that by making me tense and on guard. I had been hesitant to approach them with my ideas for the opera before and had, instead, childishly created a Phantom, but now I was actually closing myself into an office with them to do business? Hopefully they did not recognize the scary voice that whispered their names and told them to obey coming from the prospective buyer's lips. What would Cameron think if I became impatient and hypnotized both men right in front of his eyes?

I should fully disclose to Cameron how I intended to get my way if things did not go well. He needed to know that whatever happened, I was not harming anyone, but I also hoped to not use my ability at all, so I said nothing about it. "I prefer not to speak too much and will allow you to speak on behalf of us both to barter and see what they will sell for."

"I do not mind," his smile was easy and I felt as if his ease made me even more tense.

"If I feel things are not turning in our favor, I am taking over the negotiations."

"Erik." He frowned at me, "Did you not sleep well last night? You look frightfully tense."

"Do not change the subject," I frowned right back at him. "I am stepping in if I don't like where things are headed."

Cameron tossed his hands in the air. "I would never dream of stopping you, as long as the outcome is mutually beneficial to all."

"Of course," I nodded and we made our way into the theater to sit through the morning rehearsal. Hannibal was on schedule to open tonight and this morning consisted of a full dress rehearsal, though not every number would be fully sung or danced. There was no reason to give away everything to the patrons who had shown up for the early start.

"The costumes are marvelous, we will have to keep the seamstress on staff," Cameron mussed loud enough for me to hear.

"Most of the crew is good," I agreed with him. "We need a few new musicians but the conductor stays as well."

"Monsieur Reyer?" Cameron nodded slowly. "Yes, he does handle everyone quite efficiently."

We quieted down as rehearsal began. Carlotta was onstage, belting out her solo, and I realized I forgot my ear plugs. I grimaced and hoped I did not develop a headache with such an important meeting coming up. Half way through her solo, Carlotta stopped abruptly and informed Monsieur Reyer that the slave girls were distracting her with their waving arms. I rolled my eyes towards Cameron and he suppressed a smile and leaned close.

"Good thing our Diva, is not such a Diva," I nodded and Christine and the rest of the cast found their starting positions again. My eyes stayed on Christine as they began again, and soon enough hers flicked out to the audience and searched for me. She smiled softly as our eyes met and then she dropped her gaze as her cheeks flushed with color. I thoroughly enjoyed the effect my gaze had on her and did not notice the progression of the rehearsal until Carlotta backed up smack into Christine and they both fell over with a swirl of colorful petticoats.

"You quiet little toad! What are you doing in my spot?" Carlotta shoved her out of the way as she attempted to rise with Piangi's help.

"I am so sorry," Christine started as her cheeks reddened even more and everyone fell into a hush.

"You are a worthless waste of skin you freckled little sparrow!" My feet were under me before I could think and Cameron's hands were pulling me back down into my seat. He did have strong arms to be able to do such a thing and I looked at him with a snarl on my face as my ass hit the chair.

"Do not tip our hand," he warned quietly, his grip very firm on my arm. "All will be taken care of shortly. You can even fire her personally if you so desire."

He was right. I couldn't rush to Christine's defense and apparently did not have to because Meg was suddenly helping Christine up.

"Go blow your horn some where else!" she waved Carlotta away as she helped Christine to her feet. "Are you alright?" she brushed at Christine's skirts. "Having a fat cow land on you must hurt."

Laughter skittered through the cast and Carlotta flushed a dark red.

"You beast!" She raged at Meg, who turned and stood in front of Christine, with hands on hips, like she would protect her from any assault, verbal or otherwise.

She looked Carlotta up and down with disdain. "I wouldn't talk about being a beast." Carlotta looked ready to explode.

"You little whore..." she started and Meg shoved her hand in Carlotta's face.

"Shut your face and let's get back to rehearsing. Whenever you're ready Monsieur Reyer?" Meg singsonged and Carlotta had to bite her tongue as the conductor finally picked his chin up off the floor and took control of things.

They managed to make it part way through the first half but everyone was out of sorts. Christine kept watching Carlotta nervously because Carlotta was throwing hate filled looks her way. The music was the only redeeming part of the morning, for the orchestra was finely tuned. The cast was nervous and the movements did not look comfortable as they skirted around one another and I noticed the managers speaking amongst themselves quite a lot. By the time the first break came I had a feeling our meeting would go well. Hannibal looked like it could very well be a disaster tonight and if we did not step in, the managers would probably have postponed opening night. If they knew what they were doing, which was suspect to begin with.

"How shall we approach them?" Cameron asked and I stood sharply. "Wait." He stopped me and I sat back down. "I think it would be better to take this slowly and not give away too much. We do not want to seem too eager." Cameron watched the managers speaking with some of the dancers. "They appear to enjoy the girls, so we could offer them a box free of charge, though it would take away a paying customer..."

"I am not in this for the money. I am only here because of Christine. She deserves to be the star and I will make it happen."

"We will make it happen, my friend." He clapped me on the back and then began wheeling down the aisle. Christine waved at us from the stage where she was speaking with some of the chorus and I raised my hand slightly to let her know I saw her. Meg came forward quickly and plunked herself down at the front of the stage where it was impossible to miss her.

"Good morning, Mlle Giry," Cameron stopped in front of her and addressed her politely.

"Bonjour Comte Inninbalm. Bonjour Erik," she grinned at us both and began re-lacing one of her ballet shoes. "Were you here for the comedy routine earlier?" she queried as if she had not seen us sitting plainly in view.

Cameron laughed easily and I stepped closer to thank her. "Thank you Meghan, for coming to her aid."

"Yes, thank you Meghan," Cameron interrupted and leaned forward with one hand shielding his mouth from me. "Erik was about to jump out of his seat, draw his sword and fly to her rescue himself." They both shared a laugh at my expense while I glowered.

"Erik is the protective type," Meg smiled for me and Cameron settled back into his chair.

"More like over-protective."

"If you two are finished?" I gave them both a dry look, "We have a meeting to instigate." I reminded him and he reached up to the stage, holding out his hand. Meg leaned over to give him her fingers and he held them lightly, running his thumb over the knuckles.

"Mlle Giry, my grandmother adores you and wanted me to ask for you to come visit her again. Could you join us for dinner on Sunday?"

"I would love to," Meg beamed and then turned at the call of her name. Antionette was glaring at us and Meg stood quickly. "I have to go too, see you later Erik. Good bye Cameron." She gave him a saucy little wave and then hurried away with the grace of a dancer.

I fixed him with a look, "Clotilda adores her or you adore her?"

"None of your business," he reply haughtily and then smirked. "But what could be your business is right under our feet. Let us begin this adventure."

---

Christine

---

I tried to pay attention to the conversation around me about our tempo and pace through one of the songs, but my eyes continually darted to glance at Erik. He was so dominantly impressive with the slight glare on his face, his strong height and his perfect posture. Out of all the men milling in the audience he actually looked like a man, like someone who would hunt wild game to feed his family. And when he looked this focused and intense, his eyes only had to meet mine and it could make me feel like his weak little lamb.

Unfortunately it also distracted me from everything around me and now Carlotta probably _would_ drop me off the top of the opera house if she got the chance. I looked for her as well, so I would know where an attack might come from and she was fanning herself at the side of the stage with her attendants flitting around her.

I sighed and glanced back at Erik. They were moving on from Meg and Erik's eyes flicked to mine briefly. He nodded once in departure and turned to follow Cameron's chair. They approached the managers and things seemed to go smoothly as they left, en masse.

"Is that your fiancee, Christine?"

I turned back at my name, "I beg your pardon?"

"Was that your fiancee?" one girl asked as the others all tried to see who she was talking about.

"Where?"

"The man in the green jacket?

"Not him!"

"The one who barged in on rehearsal with the ring."

"Oh right! That tall guy with the cripple?"

I wanted to smack the man who called Cameron a cripple but tried to concentrate. "Yes, that's him."

"He's so tall," she giggled. "Why did they leave with Firmin and André?"

I turned to look in the direction Erik had taken so the people conversing with me could not see the lie on my face. "I do not know."

They chattered on without my help about Erik's height and maybe it was because his companion was in a chair that he appeared so tall, and was it not a very fancy chair and how did the cripple know Meg? Then they went on about possibly asking Meg and I grew tired of their constant need for gossip. I glanced around the stage looking for someone else to speak to and my eyes fell on Carlotta.

Her attendants were gone and she was speaking to one of the scene shifters. I thought his name was Joseph but I couldn't be sure. I wondered why she would be talking to him so intently as he knelt in front of her listening when suddenly they both looked at me. Carlotta's gaze narrowed into a glare and I glanced at the scene shifter and a chill went straight down my spine. I felt like he was a hungry cat and I was a tasty mouse in his sights and I turned away from his unsettling stare to look for Meg.

---

Erik

---

I stood behind Cameron, playing the part of his servant I suppose. I did not want to sit and reveal how edgy I was and he did not introduce me, at my request. I did not want to reveal my name to too many people. Part of the mystery of my housing business would be lost if everyone in Paris knew Erik Karan the opera manager and Erik the engineer were one and the same. I preferred to remain as anonymous as possible.

I also knew there was a sour expression on my face and did not want to tip our hand the wrong way. Whether it was my distaste for the men we were speaking to or my own insecurity about this meeting, I do not know. But I had never particularly cared for these managers. Their previous business was in scrap metal, of all things. They knew nothing about the stage or the music and spent the majority of their time caught up in liquor and women. They had no drive to make a name for themselves or the Opera Garnier.

Cameron was telling them what we wanted and I fought the urge to speak their names and just get what we wanted with the snap of my fingers. Neither one of them looked to have the mental capacity to resist my persuasive tone.

"So you wish to buy the opera? After a rehearsal like that?" Firmin's face scrunched up as if it was crazy for us to want the Garnier.

"My partner and I wish to pursue our mutual musical endeavors and your opera house fits the bill perfectly."

"And you say you will pay us the entire amount all at once?"

"And we can have a box?"

Cameron nodded, "For this season only. Next summer we would expect you to patronage just like everyone else."

They exchanged a look and I thought it was looking good until Firmin turned back and began fiddling with things on his desk. I knew he was trying to figure out how to say no and get more money. I glanced at André and he was looking at me. I raised my brow at him, too proud to look away and he eventually dropped his eyes.

"Your offer is quite generous, gentlemen, but I do not believe it is enough. This opera house will make us rich one day and I feel we have not given it a fair chance yet."

I ground my teeth together as Cameron negotiated with them. If they were not such idiots they would have made Christine the star and been raking in the money, but instead they kept that horrid screeching banshee just because some obviously deaf people in Italy thought she was good.

"That...is a lot of money, monsieur, to do away with so easily." A greedy glint had sprung up within Firmin's eye and I knew he would try to push us to our last nerve. It was enough for me.

"Richard Firmin, Gilles André..." I curled both of their full names on my tongue and realized I had never hypnotized two people at once. "Sit still and be quiet," their eyes glazed over and Cameron glanced at me and then at both of them with confusion on his face.

"What did you just do?" he wheeled closer and waved his hand in front their faces.

"Tipped the hand in our favor." I crossed my arms, "They would have squeezed every last dollar out of us."

"What is wrong with them?" Cameron was snapping his fingers in their faces to no avail.

"I have them under control," I glanced carelessly at the two buffoons and then finally sat in the chair that had been offered. "Before I get us our opera house, I want to make sure you are in agreement."

"To using," he waved his hand, "Whatever this is, on them?"

"No, that is already done, so I obviously do not need your approval for that."

Cameron turned his chair to face me and he looked upset. "I'm not sure I like using parlour tricks to meet our goal."

"I could not stand to listen to another minute of his pathetic, money-hungry reasoning in that annoying tone of his."

Cameron mouth quirked like he wanted to laugh but he schooled his features. "This is not how business is done, Erik," he scolded me.

"What does it matter, if in the end it is mutually beneficially for all? We get our opera, Christine is the star and these two can drink and womanize and spend the ridiculous amount of money we _first_ offered them on whatever they like."

Cameron was studying me and I fought to not squirm under his scrutinizing eye. "You say you have them under control, does that mean you can tell them to do anything?"

"Not anything," I dismissed vaguely. "But I can most certainly tell them to take our deal."

Cameron smiled, "I thought you were planning to take it for nothing, but if we are still giving them money, then that is precisely how business is done." He glanced at the two puppets I had waiting, "Though a little unorthodox. So, how does this work?"

"I tell them to take our deal and then release them from my voice control."

"Is this something you do often?" he asked mildly and I knew he was wondering if he could expect to be hypnotized if I needed something from him.

"No, I have not used it for years. Except on Meghan's mother the other day, but that women is crazy."

"Hmm," his face took on a thoughtful expression and I gave him a moment, though I was pretty sure he was thinking of Meghan and not our business proposal. "Am I safe with you around?"

His words were easy and almost said in jest, but I knew he meant the question with all seriousness. I glanced at the two blank faces and then at Cameron's slightly amused expression. "I may not have had many friends in my life, but I know I would never treat one in this manner. Your mind is safe with me around," I reassured him and he nodded.

"I had to ask." He seemed satisfied, but he thought of something else. "Were you planning to do this all along?"

"I only thought of it this morning. Meghan was asking me last night why I did it to her mother and suggested a few things..." I shrugged uncomfortably as I recalled all the unpleasantness from last night while I tested Meg's suggestions.

"Why would you use this on her mother?"

"I needed some information from her and she is reluctant to speak to me seeing as she hates me."

"And why exactly does she hate you?"

"Apparently I'm evil incarnate." I tried to make it sound like a joke but Cameron did not smile.

"There's something you are not telling me," he mussed and I raised my brow at him.

"Are you ready to tell me how you feel about Meghan?" A smile began to form on his lips.

"No."

"Then you will have to content yourself with what you know." I didn't particularly want him to know I'd murdered people in my past.

"Well, on with the show then," he waved me to proceed and I had one more thought.

"I am not sure how it will effect you when I speak. Perhaps you should stick your fingers in your ears to block some of my voice."

"Do you really think that's necessary?" he looked amused and I was glad he was so easy with my evil skills.

"Like I told you, I have not used this skill of mine in quite some time. Prolonged speech may affect you regardless of whether I say your name or not."

He did as I instructed and I turned with purpose to glare at the two managers.

"At the sound of your name you will remember none of this conversation. You will be filled with a burning desire to be rid of the opera house and all of its problems. You will agree to sell it to someone who is interested in taking on the challenge. At the sound of your name you will remember only that I am here to buy the opera and that you have negotiated a marvelous deal to sell it to me and be rid of the monstrosity."

I hoped that was good but I recalled Christine's fatigue and added one more command.

"At the sound of your name you will come back to yourself feeling refreshed and wide awake as if rising from a deep recuperative rest."

I mentally crossed my fingers and said their names. They both blinked madly as if they had not blinked the entire time I held them and I could not recall seeing them blink. Interesting...

"Gentlemen," Firmin spoke immediately and then paused as if trying to gather his scattered thoughts. Cameron glanced at me and I shrugged minutely.

"We are still willing to purchase the opera house." Cameron explained, "We are very interested in taking on the challenge if you are still looking to sell?"

The two men exchanged looks and I tried not to smile at our obvious success.

"We are all in agreement," Firmin stood and held out his hand for Cameron to shake. "The Opera Garnier is yours."

---

Christine

---

Meg was not around the stage and neither was her mother. I sighed and sat down to rest my feet before we started again and I heard someone approaching me from behind.

It was the scene shifter with the hungry look and I stood quickly so I could run if I had to.

"Christine," he smiled and I got a good look at his yellowed teeth. "My name is Joseph Buquet."

I backed up one step and smiled as best I could. "Hello Monsieur Bouquet, pleasure to meet you."

He reached for my hand and his dirty fingers made me want to bolt, but I let him touch me without shuddering. "Please call me Joseph." He started bowing over my head and if his lips touched me I knew I would pull away. He straightened and was about to say something when Monsieur Reyer rapped on his stand to call us all back.

I tore my hand from his grasp and smiled, though this smile was far more relaxed since I did not have to stay in his company. "I must go, Joseph. It was nice to put another name to another face."

As I turned and hurried away I thought I heard him say, "Until next time, Angel."

---

Erik

---

The managers left their office, now our office, talking excitedly amongst themselves and fingering a few large stacks of money.

"Now we can enjoy the atmosphere without worrying about the money."

"What a good deal we made!"

"Outsmarted those two..." I could no longer make out what they were saying and closed the door to turn and look at Cameron. He'd already pushed the chair behind the desk out of the way and had both his hands resting on the blotter.

"First order of business," he said smartly. "Fire Carlotta!"

"Music to my ears." I smiled and sat down across from him.

"Do you suppose we should go and announce the change in management to the crew?"

"You can annouce it while I stand in the shadows."

Cameron gave me an annoyed look. "I was under the impression that this would be a partnership."

"And I was under the impression that you were compliant with being the face of the business. No one wants this," I gestured to my own visage, "To be the face of anything."

"Whatever is under that mask can not be as bad as you make it seem." This conversation was making my skin crawl and I suddenly did not want to go stand in front of the entire cast and crew and be gawked at. I stood sharply and straightened my jacket.

"I was also under the impression that you did not care what was under this." I tapped the rubber once and then crossed my arms to glare down at him.

"If you are trying to intimidate me, it will not work." He crossed his own arms and stared right back up at me. "You are making a huge deal out of nothing." I suppose I was still tense from the meeting and from using my hypnosis in front of Cameron for no other reason than my being an impatient child. Christine had also roused me to the point of being willing to forgo this entire meeting just to strip her and make wild love to her against the wall in her bedroom. All of those restless emotions is probably what made it so easy for my bottomless anger to flare to the surface.

"How can you say that when you know nothing of my life?" I spat out. "When you do not even know the truth of my appearance? My face has defined everything for me!" I slammed one hand on the table top. "I was ridiculed and hated, scorned and beaten because of my face! And you sit there, so perfect, and deem to judge my behavior by your standards, which can not even begin to understand the difficulties the lack of a real face can cause."

"You have a face, Erik. I'm looking at it right now." Not only was he perfect looking but he had such perfect patience.

"Do you want to see the devil's spawn?" I leaned towards him over the table, leering ineffectively. "You want to stare into the face of evil?"

"What are you talking about?" His perfect face took on a look of bewilderment. "It's your face for Christ's sake. Whatever it looks like just makes you, you."

"Exactly." I muttered darkly wondering if I should just rip off the mask and let him have a look to sate his curiosity. But it would certainly tear the skin again and that would upset Christine.

"Erik, I don't really care what's under your mask, but with that mask on you can barely tell there's anything wrong with your face at all! I had to take a good long look to see where the lines of the rubber extend, it almost perfectly matches your skin tone. Maybe I don't understand what your life was like, but you look like any other man on the street, except that _you _are now the new owner of the Opera Garnier and you are _engaged_ to its star. That may point you out as better, but other than that..."

I was glaring at him because it annoyed me how simply he thought of my issues. My face marked me as the disgusting, evil spawn that I was. He would never understand that. People feared me when they saw my face because they knew it was the mark of Satan. It's what my mother screamed at me time and again and so far my life has shown it to be true. The exceptions were few and far between, if people wanted to use me then they overcame the fear. And Christine was an angel...

I noticed Cameron hiking up his pant legs out of the corner of my eye.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you my legs," he replied calmly. "Look at my legs and then tell me if you feel you're better off than I am." He sat back smugly, clearly feeling he'd made his point.

His legs looked undernourished, like there was hardly any flesh beneath the skin and around the bones.

"Why are you showing me?" I looked away angrily, hating that I felt sorry for him, but also hating the relief I felt at the simplicity of my own disfigurement. "I was not interested in seeing that." He began lowering his pant legs.

"Do you think I have not been ridiculed, scorned and disowned for my ailment?"

I wanted to dismiss his words, but I knew they were true. I did feel a kinship with him. It was why I so easily accepted his friendship. I shrugged uncomfortably now. What was wrong with me? First I hypnotize my angel and ask her what I look like, of all things, just to see what she would say in a state of mind control. Then after revealing my evil talents to Cameron, I fly off the handle about, my face, again.

When would I grow up and leave this childish insecurity behind me? I had a woman who loved me. I had a father who loved me. I had two friends now and did not think, with Christine in my life, the number would be stopping there.

"Cameron..." I started lamely and he poked me with a short stick. I jumped in surprised wondering where the hell he procured a stick and watched him slide it back into a concealed hollow in the side of his chair. My eyes flicked over his chair now, wondering if he carried more concealed weapons upon his person at all times.

"We are better than other men," his eyes glowed with conviction. "We have dealt with controversy and come out on top, stronger and more determined then ever." I felt silly to be taking this pep talk from him but it also felt strangely uniting. "We use our cunning and intelligence to get what we need and get where we need to go and one more thing..."

I gave him all my attention.

"You have the sweetest, most beautiful woman I have ever met as your fiancee, so shut the hell up." He was laughing again and I was grateful for his youthful wisdom and charming humor. He saw me relax and added, "If you are not careful I may actually try stealing her for myself."

"You would try and fail," I smirked at him now.

"See," he pointed at me. "Think of how confident you feel right now, how confident you are in Christine, and use that." My face sobered. He was telling me what I already knew. If Christine was at my side I could walk into any room and endure any torment.

I glanced at his legs. But my friend would never walk. He crossed his arms.

"Are you feeling sorry for me?" he queried mildly and my brow furrowed. "Don't." He demanded and then pretended to fix his hair. "At least I have my dashing looks."

My mouth quirked against my will. "Cameron Inninbalm, congratulations on your dashing looks," I held out my hand for him to shake. "And your new opera house." His grip was hard and strong, determination in every fiber of his being.

"Congratulations on your two working legs, and the successful purchase of the Opera Garnier. Now, shall we go tell the crew that they have been taken over by two extraordinarily talented musicians?"

---

Christine

---

Cameron and Erik came into rehearsal and sat at the front to wait for a break. Erik looked relaxed and comfortable and I smiled at him when his eyes found me. I couldn't help it even though the scene we were doing should not be graced with smiles. I tried to focus on the music and my singing cues and do a good job as part of the chorus. We moved through the second act without the major problems of the first and when we reached the end Erik and Cameron moved to speak with Monsieur Reyer. They said a few words and Reyer looked shocked, but rapped the stand to gather everyone's attention.

"Ecouté!" he called loudly and everyone stopped moving and talking. Silence descended and I saw tension crawl back into Erik. I stared at him, trying to give him support through what I knew would not be easy for him.

"Bonjour," Cameron waved from his chair with a friendly smile on his face. It was good he looked so friendly because Erik was beginning to glare again. "I am Count Inninbalm and this is my associate Erik Karan. We have just purchased the opera Garnier from Firmin and André and wanted to say hello."

Tittering giggles came from a few of the dancers and feet shuffled.

"I can assure you that we are both strong musicians and look forward to working with you all to create the best performances Paris has ever seen. That being said," his pleasant voice carried easily through the silent theatre. "We have decided to postpone the opening of Hannibal."

That caused a huge surge of noise from those gathered. Cries came up from the patrons and the cast and crew alike, and Cameron held up his hands.

"We do not think this morning's rehearsal went well enough to perform it tonight but there will still be a performance this evening." The crowd hushed to hear what he had to say. "Monsieur Reyer can help us create a medley type performance where we can showcase all the talent we have. Hannibal will open after Christmas when we have hopefully ironed out some of the kinks." Cameron was a fine speaker and when members began throwing questions at him about their contracts and what would be performed tonight he laughed and held up his hands again to stop the influx of queries. "Contracts will be honored to the best of our abilities. No one will go hungry, I can promise you that. If everyone could take a short break, perhaps twenty minutes and then convene back here, I think that is enough time for Monsieur Reyer and us two to figure out what we can perform tonight." He glanced at Reyer for approval and he nodded.

"Twenty minutes!" Reyer called out and everyone sort of broke, but they were all too interested in the new management so, not many people left.

I wanted to rush over to Erik, but stayed calm and took a few breaths as Meg and Julie bounced over.

"Your fiance bought the Garnier?" Julie was surprised and Meg looked smug because she had been privy to this information.

"Don't discount the count." Meg giggled and Julie glanced at the men.

"He is handsome..." she started and Meg grabbed her roughly.

"I saw him first." She growled in Julie's face and Julie looked shocked.

"I don't want a cripple," she shoved Meg away and then laughed. "But apparently you do," she smirked and turned away calling some of the other girls. "Violet? Marjorie? Listen to this..." she moved away from us and I put my hands on Meg's shoulders to soothe her and keep her from running after Julie to pounce on her back and choke the life from her. Meg was seething as she turned to me.

"I hate the word cripple," she grumbled and I agreed.

"They don't even know him and yet they judge him." I realized it was the same for Erik as well. I watched him chatting with Monsieur Reyer and Cameron and thought he looked remarkably calm. Of course he would be. They were speaking about music and no one knew more about music then Erik.

"You know, Maman called him a cripple too," Meg said softly as we both tried not to stare at the men's conference.

"What?" I was surprised Mme Giry would use such a word herself, but recalled her prejudice towards Erik and guessed that she held prejudices towards many people.

"She wanted to know why he knew me, why he was talking to me..." Meg turned and rested her head on my shoulder. "He invited me for dinner tomorrow night but Maman won't let me go." Her voice was soft and sad.

"Why ever not? Doesn't she want you married off?"

"Yes, but not to a cripple who can not care for me. Her words, not mine."

"Well..." I wanted to say that was rubbish but who was I to refute what a mother wants for her daughter. Of course, Mme Giry was not the best mother in the world...

"Perhaps, Erik and I can take you with us again some time." I tried to keep her hopes up but Meg was deep in the doldrums.

"What's the use? Every girl here will have her sights on him now."

"Meghan..." I started but she jerked when Monsieur Reyer called her name. She smiled brightly and hurried over to the group of men. Erik glanced up at me, left alone in the middle of the stage and gave me a small smile. Meg was nodding emphatically and then curtsied politely to race back to my side.

"What was..." I started but should have known it was not necessary to ask Meg for the details.

"They want me to dance while the orchestra plays," she seemed breathless though she did not have far to go from the men to my side.

"To which song?"

"They have not decided but I can dance to anything, and I can make it up as I go, since I only need to do it once, it doesn't matter if I can remember it or not. I just get to dance freely." She was smiling again and I was happy she'd shrugged off the depression so easily. "Ugh!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"What?"

"Joseph is staring at us," she rolled her eyes but I felt that unnerving chill run through me again.

"Monsieur Buquet?" I looked over my shoulder and sure enough he was standing in the shadows of the curtains with that predatory look to his face.

"Allez, cochon!" she yelled out and a few people turned to see and he scampered away.

"Meg..." I started to tell her not to provoke him and how uncomfortable he made me, but Reyer called out for our attention. He announced the different numbers from a few different operas that would be run. It was a good mix of songs, some to be sung by a chorus and some as solos for Piangi and the soprano, as well as full dance numbers and then the instrumental break where only Meg would dance and then the grande finale was the aria from Hannibal. They made no mention of which of us would sing it but Cameron called for La Carlotta to follow him to the office and I breathed a sigh of relief that they were taking care of _her_.

We went through the planned performance once and everyone seemed excited by the prospect of an unorthodox performance. The cast and crew were warming to our new management already and I was so proud of Erik and so much was going on that I forgot all about Joseph and his catlike eyes.


	55. Pivot Point

**_Author's note: To all of you who reviewed, thank you so so so much for your words. They were like little rays of sunshine that brightened my days. Some of you made me laugh right out loud and others gave me some good ideas that just may get used in the story, so kudos to you! All in all, my begging worked. I would beg for reviews every time but I don't like to put an author's note at the start of each chapter and I definitely don't like putting them at the end, so I will just have to hope that everyone keeps reviewing! _**

**_*nudge nudge*_**

**_Now, the reason I put this note here...I will NOT be able to write for the next three weeks. I will be away from my computer on a tropical vacation and unable to post or even prepare my next chapter *HORRORS!* Please keep this in mind as you wait for the next update. I hope to have it up by mid June. Do not abandon me! I will NEVER abandon you so please keep reading and waiting!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**Erik**

I allowed Cameron begin the meeting with Carlotta by himself because there was someone waiting in the hall by the office, wanting to speak to the new management.

"Antoinette," I nodded at her, once the office door was closed, and she scowled at me.

"What are you doing, buying the opera house? Why are you even interested? You should take your wife and leave us well enough alone."

"Good day to you as well," I felt exhilerated from my conversation with Reyer. He seemed to sense the musician in me, and had spoken to me with much respect, unlike this woman.

"And what are you doing introducing my daughter to men like that?" she pointed at the door.

"Rich men?" I raised one brow at her and she snorted, sounding very much like Meg. "Or would that be polite, good looking men? I could find a vagrant off the street if you prefer?"

"Meghan needs a man who will reign her in," she glanced at the closed door. "If he can't even walk, what good will he be to her?"

"Oh, I don't know, he could respect her and provide for her and not abuse her and..."

"Since when do you care about my daughter anyway," Antoinette stepped closer. "You told me you would leave her alone."

"That is hard to do when she is constantly at my fiancée's side."

"Don't meddle in her life." My anger finally showed up to the fight and I stepped close to Antoinette to make her uncomfortable.

"Do not harass me or you could find yourself out of a job." I could not help the slight bit of smuggness as I said that. Her face flickered through shock and anger and then a shrill cry came from within the office. "I am needed. Good day, Antoinette." I left her outside the office and quickly entered.

La Carlotta was doing some of her better acting as she fanned her flushed, forelorn expression and quivering lips.

"I will be r-r-ruined," she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and I rolled my eyes.

"With your talent and skill any other opera house would still hire you," Cameron was the voice of reason.

"Not after being cast aside for yourrr precious little _ingenue_!" she spat the word out.

"Please, let's stay calm." Cameron glanced at me and Carlotta jerked around to glare at me.

"Is this payment for what I have said to your little sparrow? Why else would you fire such talent?" she gestured to herself and I fought down nausea.

"Mlle Daae has talent. You squawk like a parakeet."

Her face flushed darkly, "How dare you!"

"Please, let's stay calm!" Cameron gave me an annoyed look and rolled towards Carlotta. "You are vastly talented Madame, but we hope to take the Opera Garnier in a new direction. As music and people change and evolve, we also must change and evolve, and Mlle Daae will be the soprano that takes us through this transition."

The fanning increased in vigor. "I cannot believe I am hearing this..." she mumbled.

"Did you think a fictional man, such as myself, would allow you to continue in my wife's rightful position?" her eyes flicked up and down me quickly as if assessing me entirely.

"That...girl," she finally decided on, instead of something more colorful, "Never even opens her mouth. Why should I have believed that she'd found herself a husband when she never leaves this building?"

"And yet she did."

"Obviously," Carlotta growled out and turned back to Cameron. "Comte Inninbalm, in my professional opinion, Christine Daae is not ready to be the star. She needs far more practice and training before she will be ready to properly fill the shoes of lead soprano."

I tried not to laugh as Cameron nodded politely. "Thank you for your honest opinion, Madame. We will see she receives the proper training before we open." Cameron easily dismissed her concerns and the fan flapped at her face a few times.

"I could...help," Carlotta almost choked or her own words.

"In what manner?" Cameron was always so polite that he was allowing Carlotta to run with this new tactic.

"I could help train her, I am a wealth of knowledge when it comes to the stage."

Cameron was sitting back and mulling this over and I wanted to step between them and say no, in no uncertain terms. I shook my head minutely while sending a baleful glare at my partner.

"Mlle Daae has a singing instructor and I do not believe he is interested in your approach." The way that Cameron leaned his head towards me made Carlotta sit up straight, as if she could only now feel me behind her.

"I see," she paused and then tried another vein. "But her stage presence, as a woman, needs work. I doubt her _singing instructor_ can help her with that."

"I do not believe we are concerned with Mlle Daae's stage presence. She did remarkably well for the close of Faust and that was without any actually rehearsal time." Cameron was so calm, collected and informed that I wanted to applaud him.

"Then, then," she was running out of arguments. "I would be willing to take the role of understudy," it was as if the words actually hurt her to say them. Her face contorted as if she tasted something foul in her mouth. "Every lead needs as understudy, they cannot perform every night."

Cameron glanced at me and I sneered. "You suddenly agree with the need of an understudy. How refreshing?" I was all sarcasm and she kept her eyes on Cameron.

"It is only sound business to have an understudy." I rolled my eyes at her sudden co-operation but Cameron was taking it to the bank.

"You would be content with not only a pay cut, but a smaller role and fewer rehearsal days?" he spelled it out succinctly.

"Yes," she was choking again.

"I will discuss the possibility with my colleague. I must beg you though, will you still perform for us tonight? There are two songs that need a soprano and I would love for you to grace the stage one last time." Cameron's kindness to her was making me feel nauseous again and I covered my mouth with my hand behind Carlotta's back. "We would both love for you to sing tonight." Cameron beamed at her. "Think of it as your farewell performance."

"Thank you Comte Inninbalm." She bobbed her head, "You are a true gentleman," and stood to fix her gimlet eyes on me. "Thank you Monsieur Karan, for your consideration." I closed the door nicely behind her and then turned to Cameron.

"We would both love you to sing tonight?" I queried.

"Her last hurrah," Cameron laughed and my lip curled.

"If I never hear her sing again it still won't be enough. The memory of the abomination echoes in my skull and makes me ill even now."

"You are too dramatic, Erik," he laughed harder.

"No, what was dramatic is her about face to being an understudy. She's up to something..."

Cameron waved his hand as he began looking through the desk. "Not everyone is up to something. She's just worried about her job, her fans, her lifestyle. How would you feel about changing your profession against your will?"

"If she were better at her chosen profession, she would not have to worry," I mumbled as I started snooping through the filing cabinets.

Cameron began pilfering through the desk drawers. "What did Mme Giry need?" he asked as if not interested.

"Reassurance that I was not planning to drag her daughter down to hell and the whole opera house with her..." I found some interesting papers and began reading them.

"Erik, you make her sound like a religious zealot," Cameron was laughing and I glanced at him with an unamused expression. "She can't be," his brow furrowed. "Where did her spirited daughter come from then?"

"Must have been her father's doing..." the interesting papers lured my attention back. They spoke of extra money exchanging hands during the last sale of the Garnier. The managers were given a large portion of money to make the purchase and most of the contribution was donated by a collection of Paris' elite businessmen, to be payed back in quarterly sums. "Cameron, we may have a small problem..."

**Christine**

I was sitting on Meg's bed with a few other dancers and excited chatter filled the small room. Everyone was talking about Inninbalm and Karan and Meg and I were people of interest because of our acquaintance.

"How did you meet him, Christine?" one girl asked and the rest all hushed to listen intently.

"We met at the masquerade and I began taking singing lessons from him. We tried to keep things professional, but I couldn't help myself," I allowed myself to smile like a silly, love sick girl and look down at my ring.

"And the Comte, Meg, how does he know you?"

"I'm friends with his grandmother," she answered easily and I gave her a raised brow. "She adores me as if I'm one of her own grandchildren," Meg grinned for everyone and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. "You had better all be ready for tonight. Inninbalm and Karan mean business. They are both musicians and intend to work us to the bone. No more half hearted performances. They will whip this deflated cast into shape." Meg gave a critical eye to those gathered and I nodded my agreement.

"I can't say what Count Inninbalm is like, but Erik is very particular in his instructions and his lessons were not easy to begin with." It felt strange to be speaking about Erik to all these girls, but I would have to get used to the feeling. Erik was no longer my secret affair to hide away from everyone's eyes. Our union was announced and now everyone here knew he was a real man and I was his.

"He does look very exacting," a few girls tittered amongst themselves about Erik's glare and Cameron's friendly charm and how two such different men could be associates. I rolled my eyes to Meg and her mouth quirked.

"Enough gossiping," Meg took charge. "We should be getting ready for tonight, everyone pair off. We need to all have our hair braided on top of our heads for the show."

Everyone followed Meg's orders and I was braiding her hair when there was a knock on her door. It sounded an awful lot like Erik's knock and I hurried Meg to answer.

"Can I help you?" she grinned at whoever was there, only opening the door a tiny amount.

"Bonjour Meghan, may I speak to Christine please?" my fiance asked quietly and Meg opened the door all the way revealing Erik's tall, well dressed frame to the room.

"Be my guest," she turned back to the now gaping crowd of girls who were all ogling their new boss, my man, and I came forward quickly.

"May I speak to you out in the hall?" Erik asked politely as he took my hands and glanced at the gathered audience.

"Of course," I turned to close the door behind us and Meg made a face.

"Oooo, how romantic," she laughed as everyone else made cooing noises and exclaimed how handsome and elegant the new manager was and how lovely his voice was. Meg turned at that line of talk and the door closed as she told them to get back to braiding.

Erik caressed my cheek with his gloved fingers, "Hello ma chardonerrette." We kissed softly and gently, and quickly. We did not want to be discovered canoodling in the hallway. His lips lingered on my temple and I held him close for a brief minute and then we parted to a proper distance. "I wanted to let you know how the meeting with La Vache went." He looked amused and I smiled.

"Am I the lead now?" I couldn't help the buoy of happiness.

"And she is your understudy."

My mouth dropped open, "She agreed to that? How did you manage that? I thought she would storm out..."

"Cameron has a way with words," Erik glanced over my shoulder, thinking of something serious. I touched his cheek lightly, bringing his attention back to me and he shook himself slightly. "There are still some things to settle, but she offered to help train you."

"And you accepted?" I couldn't help the incredulity in my voice.

"Of course not," he scoffed, "But my partner still allowed her to stay. I would have loved to boot her generous derrière into the street." I muffled a giggle in my hand and Erik took my hand from my mouth. "Do not hide your smiles from me." He said softly, tracing the edge of my face.

"Even my inappropriate ones?" I whispered as I slid my arms around his waist.

"Especially those," his focus was beginning to lean towards naughty behavior and I tried to keep us from getting carried away in a public place.

"Can Meghan join us at Nadir's tomorrow?" my mouth was doing a good job of keeping things professional, but my hands were still resting around him, close to his tight backside, wanting to slide down over it and pull him closer...

"I believe she has another dinner invitation that would overshadow ours completely."

"Oh," I pulled back slightly to look up, "She can't go. Her mother won't let her."

"What?" Erik looked angry and pulled away to pace back and forth across the hall grumbling to himself. "That woman...meddling...crazy...prejudice..." He abruptly stopped and came back to me with a small smile. "Wonderful idea, my heart. Invite her to come meet Nadir. We will be leaving early. I have alot of work to get done on...on nothing that you need to hear about." He touched my nose gently.

"On our house?" I asked, biting my lip in excitement.

"Perhaps..." Erik smiled with me and I threw my arms around his neck.

"Please, can I please, come to see the site. Please, Erik, I'm _dying_ of curiosity."

"Well, if you're _dying_..." he laughed and nuzzled his face into my neck as I squealed in delight and heard the sound of a cane thumping the floor hard.

We jumped apart but Erik held onto me so he could push me behind him, effectively shielding me from Mme Giry.

"Sneaking about, Antoinette?" Erik tried to gain the upper hand.

"I do not sneak." She replied with her chin in the air. "You are just too caught up in each other to notice people inches away. I could have whacked you over the head with my cane. Why are you congregated at Meghan's door?"

"I came to speak privately to my fiancee," Erik explained politely.

She looked us over seriously, "I can see a lot of speaking is happening."

"And are you here to verbally abuse your daughter?" he threw back at her.

"Don't criticize me," she stepped closer, her face pressing into angry lines as her finger pointed at Erik's face. "You have no right."

"Or did you just want to ruin the rest of her evening by reminding her that she cannot be pursued by rich, polite men, in wheelchairs. Only drunken whelps are apparently good for her, as long as they can stand, hmm?" Mme pulled herself together and looked away.

"Perhaps I was hasty in my decision earlier, but there is no reason for her to go to his home alone. They do not even know each other." I wanted to offer to go with her as chaperon, just so Meg could figure out how Cameron feels for her, but Erik's hand tightened over mine as if to stop me.

"Can she come to meet my father, instead? I've been putting it off," Mme Giry snorted and if it was not such a tense moment, I would have laughed at how alike her and Meg were.

"Your father? How is it a French boy from a gypsy camp has a Persian father?" Mme Giry knew far more about Erik than was safe.

"Not that I think you deserve to know anything about me, but he saved me from that hell and raised me as his own. He was more a father to me than you a mother to your own..."

"Enough! How dare you!" Mme was insensed. "Meghan is mine to care for and however I choose to, is no concern of yours!"

The door opened behind us and Meg came out, shutting it deliberately behind her.

"Maman," she hissed. "We can hear you inside."

"Ma petite chou," she reached out for Meg. "Your safety always gets me wound up tighter than a top knot." Meg hugged her mother briefly and then stepped back to cast her eyes on all three of us.

"I'm perfectly safe, Maman. Even more so when Erik is around."

Mme Giry made a face and Meg stepped closer to her. "No. Don't dismiss him anymore," she whispered viciously. "He's the one who pulled Albert off me and I bet you never even thanked him for that." Now Mme looked chagrined. "And it was his money that saved me when I was ill, Maman. How can you hate him at all? Or do you hate him _because_ he saved me?" Meg was fixing her mother with the most pathetic expression and we watched Mme Giry for her reaction. Her face trembled and she grabbed Meg to clutch her to her chest.

"Ma fille, I do not hate him." She looked at us over her daughter's shoulder. "How could I hate the man who helped save my little flower? I am eternally grateful to him for his generousity, but that does not mean I have to like him."

Meg sighed and released her mother. "I suppose that's as good as it's going to get, huh?"

Mme Giry opened her mouth but Meg held up her hand. "Never mind, you don't have to like him, but _I do_, so you will have to deal with that. I would like to go meet Erik's father and spend the day with Christine if that is alright with you?"

"What ever you like, ma fille," Mme was subdued now and I stepped forward, around Erik to take Meg's hand.

"Hopefully it's a nice day and I can show you the gardens." I smiled at both mother and daughter, wondering if my mother would have been like this and wishing I'd had a chance to know. "Maybe you could come too, Mme?" I glanced at Erik to see if it would bother him, but he looked non-plussed. "You do know Nadir Karan?"

"Of course I do," her eyes narrowed at Erik. "Funny how he never mentioned _his son_ to me?"

Erik fixed Mme Giry with his un-amused raised eyebrow. "I must be his _evil_ little secret."

Mme Giry grimaced and opened her mouth and Meg stepped between the two of them holding up her hands. "Stop it, both of you! Why can't you get along? Maman, from now on I want you to be nice to Erik. And Erik, no more poking at my mother." Meg crossed her arms and looked between the two of them. "I love you both and I hate that you can't say one civil word to each other."

Mme Giry looked like she might be having an apoplexy. "You love him?" her voice squeaked out and Meg groaned loudly.

"As a friend!" she threw her arms down and then grabbed her mother by the shoulders. "How many times does he have to save me before you will give him a chance too?"

We were all frozen in place waiting for Mme Giry to say something. "But he...I...he..." she swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Whatever you want, ma fille. I only want you to be happy."

"Merci, Maman," Meg whispered gently before kissing her mother's cheek. "Will you please come with us tomorrow?"

"Non, you go and visit with Monsieur Karan. You will recognize him from box 5. Say hello to him for me."

"I will." Mme Giry raised one finger and pointed it right at me.

"I expect you to keep my daughter safe."

"Of course," I answered immediately so there would be no doubt that I accepted the responsibility.

"Are the girls braiding their hair?" she asked sharply, her back straightening into the fierce ballet mistress that she was.

"Oui, Maman." Meg nodded.

"Good girl. I hear you are dancing without boundaries tonight? You will be lovely." And she walked away.

Meg turned to look at us both with a slightly embarrassed face. "Sorry about my matriarch." She smiled and squeezed my hand, "Looks like we'll be having fun all day tomorrow and maybe sneak off to see Clotilda and Cameron at some point?" her grin was entirely mischievous and Erik laughed softly behind me drawing both our eyes to his powerful presence.

"I suspected that would be your wish." His smooth words pulled wide smiles over both of our mouths.

**Erik**

The performance was a success. Carlotta sang a few of her old parts, causing my eye to twitch uncontrollably and after a full ballet performance Meghan took the stage alone in a black dress. Her face expressed such deep, sorrowful emotion as she floated with the music that I knew every man in the house was wondering if he could make her smile. I covertly watched Cameron through part of her solo, curious to see affection for her so plainly on his face. Fawn eyes, Meg called the look and it was quite accurate. I turned my attention back to Meg knowing I probably did look the same way when Christine was in my sights.

Christine...The grand finale tonight was my bride. Her golden and ruby colored dress made her glow without the help of the lights. Her golden curls were silky long tendrils down her back and she radiated goodness and light upon the audience as she was announced as the new Diva of the Opera Garnier. She sang the aria from Hannibal as a sneak peak of the next opera, which would be opening after Christmas.

The audience exploded with approval and I felt a new deep emotion fill me. Pride and confidence filled me to the brim. She was mine. That angel on the stage was mine. And it was time to go stand at her side.

I left Cameron and quickly made my way to the stage so I could escort Christine the second she stepped out of the stage lights. Her large eyes met mine as soon as she turned from the curtains and her smile was even brighter than a moment before. I turned as she approached so my body would positionally match hers and she immediately took my arm. The din around us seemed to fade away as I looked down into her radiantly joyful face. I gently lifted her other hand and pressed my lips to her knuckles.

"Brava," I whispered against her skin, marveling at the soft feminine scent for the hundredth time. "You are a star."

Before she could respond, half a dozen people reached for her and our quiet moment was broken. Her hand clutched at my arm even as she accepted the praise and smiled at the surrounding throng. Not once did her grip on my arm loosen and as dozens of men kissed her fingers I had to keep telling myself that my lips had been the first and would be the last tonight to grace her fingertips.

Cameron found us surrounded by excited people and waved to some men standing off to the side. They brought forth a bottle of champagne and we all toasted our success.

"To the brilliant Diva Daae." Cameron lifted his glass.

"To the new management," Christine countered.

"To success." I added and we all drank from our glasses. Meghan attacked Christine for her glass and tasted some of the champagne before Cameron interrupted.

"You can have your own glass, Meghan." His smile was easy and I felt the same ease in me, which was odd since I was surrounded by people and noise.

"I shouldn't drink," she grinned at Cameron. "It makes me even sillier than usual, but thank you for offering." Cameron leaned towards her and began saying something but my attention was pulled away to Christine. She was holding up her glass in front of my face, a tiny smile curling her lips.

"To you, Maestro," she toasted me and I chimed my glass against hers.

"To you, my love." Her cheeks were flushed and her lashes fluttered for me and I had to remind myself that people were all around us. My body, though, had other ideas. I felt the need to mark my territory. My arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close so our noses brushed innocently. Her breath caught and my eyes closed. "My bride..."

That was the extent of my self control. I pressed my lips over hers and felt her moan softly as her free hand clutched my lapel. Her lips tasted of champagne and I thought about cleaning every trace of it from her tongue, but someone tugged on my sleeve. I broke the kiss to glare at the interrupter and Meghan crossed her arms.

"Is that really necessary? You're going to make everyone vomit." She started laughing and Christine began apologizing, but I stopped her.

"We are not currently in your room and yes, it was necessary." I pulled Christine close to my side in a very possessive manner. "Now no one will question our relationship."

"Were people questioning?" Cameron easily joined the conversation with a smirk that matched Meghan's.

"Stopped any questioning before it even started." I could feel a smile pulling on my lips and I let it happen. The rubber pulled on my skin but stayed in place as I smiled at my friends. I held up my glass towards Meghan and Cameron. "To friendship."

**Christine**

Erik stayed at my side throughout the evening. He might have glared at a few men, but otherwise he was my constant guard and I was able to relax and enjoy my infamy. I was at ease even when Joseph Buquet kissed my hand and complimented my performance, but he was not at ease when he looked at Erik, so to my delight, our conversation was very short. Smiling faces greeted my presence and so many people touched me and kissed me that I had the urge to bathe as soon as I was free. By the time Erik brought me to my room, I was exhausted from constantly smiling. He hesitated at the door and would not come in.

"I will come for you later," he whispered into my hair as we embraced.

"How much later? I may fall asleep." He laughed gently.

"I will not be too long. Wait up for me." He ordered softly and then strode down the hall. A few of the dancers heading to their rooms hailed him, but he barely looked in their direction and mumbled a reply and kept going. I smiled as I closed the door. Erik's attention was a hard thing to gain and when he was not concentrating on me, he was often lost in his mind.

I changed from my dress and prepared for bed and was ready to go down below when Erik arrived less than an hour later.

"What were you doing?" I asked curiously as we entered the lower tunnels.

"Hmm? Oh, you will see..." he answered vaguely. I was now insanely curious, but knew my man well. He would not tell me anything until it was time to tell.

We entered his home and he told me to get ready for bed with a gentle push towards my door. I gave him a puzzled look but went to remove my simple dress and take off my shoes in my bedroom instead of his. I had already washed my face and braided my hair so I was back out in less than three minutes and the outer living area was still all dark. The only light came from Erik's room and I quickly scampered to his door. I stepped in and saw fabric drapped all around the bed hanging from the ceiling and the light I had spied was coming only from the fire. I glanced at the entrance to his washroom, wondering if he was within.

"Erik?" I called out and he answered from behind me.

"Yes?" I jumped and spun around with a laugh.

"You startled me. Were you hiding?" He was naked from the waist up and reached for me with a relaxed smile.

"Yes." He settled his arms around me and I stretched up to kiss him.

"Why were you hiding?"

"So I could startle you," he was laughing silently and I pinched him before fixing him with a look.

"Don't forget, I know where you are ticklish."

"You wouldn't," he gave me a stern look and started backing towards the bed. I followed him, wiggling my fingers at him.

"I would and if you are not careful, I will!" Erik narrowed his eyes at me and then smiled widely and I noticed he'd taken off the rubber mask. The damaged skin folded strangely as he smiled, making his smile seem less wide and lopsided, and then it began to fade. "What's wrong?" he asked seriously.

I shook myself mentally and wrapped my arms around him. "Not a single thing." I pressed my body to his and he searched my face.

"Do you have any questions on your mind?" he prompted.

"I was wondering why the bed is drapped in fabric," I glanced at the thick drapery and he chuckled.

"Good," he pulled away some fabric and guided me into the shadowy recesses. As I entered though, I saw hundreds of tiny rainbows glittering, twirling and dancing across the dark fabric.

"Oh," I gazed up at the rainbow lantern spinning serenely above the center of the bed. "How magical..." I looked over at Erik as he followed me in and closed the slit in the curtain before stretching out upon the bed.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly, his eyes reflecting rainbows of light as he lovingly gazed at me.

"I love it," I crawled towards him and we snuggled into the pillows so we could take in the magical sight together.

"How does it turn?" I asked with wonder hard to conceal.

"It is a simple mechanism," his hand was playing with my braid and I felt the curls unraveling.

I almost chastized him for undoing my hair but he leaned to me and kissed the top of my head. "I love you." His voice caressed me and I sighed in contentment.

"Erik, you are amazing." I followed one bright little rainbow until it travelled out of my sight.

"Not me," he said softly and I pushed myself up to argue, but he laid a finger over my lips. "I am many things, but amazing is not one of them. You are the amazing one." His eyes seared me with their heat and I nodded, for whatever reason, as I leaned into him to offer my lips. Our kiss went from soft and gentle to exploratory and when Erik rolled me to my back and stared down at me, panting lightly, I let my hands roam down his hard chest. I could feel his old scars and the long new one and a strong possessiveness filled me.

I pulled him down onto me to let him taste how I felt. I needed to show him just how much I adored him. When he only existed for me it was easy to overlook the need to tell and show him my love everyday. Now that all of Paris would be seeking his genius I wanted to solidify our special connection.

Our love smoldered easily and he followed where I led. When I no longer knew how to proceed, he took over. His pale scarred skin glimmered with rainbows as we made love and I held him tightly, breathing his name as he pushed me towards ecstasy. He said he was not amazing and though I'd wanted to argue, I realized that he was right. He was extraordinary.

He was also mine and when he nuzzled his bare face to my naked chest with a whispered good night, I was the happiest girl alive.

**Erik **

I felt good when I woke Sunday morning. So good that if Christine had asked to go to church, I probably would have taken her myself. But she knew we were headed to Nadir's and she also knew why.

"Take me to the site right away, then Meg and I can go back to the house and you can start working." Christine was fixing her hair as I leaned against the wall close by.

"Cameron and Clotilda are expecting you after lunch." She nodded but then frowned at her reflection.

"I feel awful that we are sneaking behind her mother's back."

"Don't. Once Antoinette gets over Cameron's ailment, she will see that he has every ability to control her daughter."

"Is that what she's worried about? That he can't physically control her?"

"He can though, because Meghan wants him to."

Christine's head turned from the mirror to look at me. "It is obvious, isn't it?" I nodded.

"They are attracted to each other, but they both are holding back."

"I guess we held back for awhile too," her eyes were softening and darkening at the same time and I smiled at my lover.

"We do not have time, my heart." Christine giggled lightly and resumed pinning up her hair.

We tried to make sure we were waiting in her dormitory room before Meghan came, but as we neared the mirror I could hear the knocking.

"Christine! You are the heaviest sleeper ever! Wake up! Geez..." the talking became muffled, but continued with spirit.

Christine turned to me with panic in her eyes. "What do I say?" I frowned at the mirror and concluded that we did not know how long Meghan had been knocking.

"Come with me," I pulled Christine behind me to one of the entrances into the hall. I crossed my fingers that no one else was up and about and then worked the mechanism and shoved Christine through, following close behind.

We were lucky that no one was in the hall, but I could hear two girls chatting amicably and making their way towards us. I pulled Christine down the hall towards her room. Meghan was still knocking on the door muttering when we came up behind her.

"Good morning Meghan." She jumped at the sound of my voice. "We went to pick you up from your room, but here you are, waiting for us."

"Morning," she smiled hugely and gave Christine a small hug. "I thought you were passed out in there from too much champagne." The girls tittered about last night as we headed to the carriage and I let Meghan know that Cameron and I had made plans for them to visit this afternoon. "Thank you, Erik. Sorry again about my mother. She is very...obstinate."

I refrained from commenting one way or another and we traveled companionably to Nadir's. He was waiting for us in the front room and after greeting us I let him know that us three would be going for a short walk before the girls returned alone.

"More digging for you today?" he asked easily and I nodded. I hoped that Bernard sent me some help as I'd asked him to, otherwise I would get behind schedule on only my second day.

The girls held hands as I led them away from Nadir's house. I told them to pay attention though so they could find their way back by themselves. Within twenty minutes of steady walking we reached what would eventually hold our house. Christine teared up when she saw the stream and pool of water and threw her arms around my neck, babbling about how perfect it was and how she could hardly wait to see what I would build. I held her tight and smiled at Meg who winked at me and turned her back to go look at what I'd dug already.

"I'm glad you approve, but you will have to wait for some time before the house will be finished." I spoke quietly into her ear and she pulled back excitedly.

"It will be beautiful and perfect and oh! Make sure there are enough rooms for our children."

"I will," I replied as Meg's back shook with silent laughter. I thought I should ask, "How many children should I plan for?"

"I don't know," she looked up at me, searching my face. "How many do you want?"

"I have never really thought about it," I cleared a curl from her forehead and Meg approached us.

"I would make three extra rooms and if you have more children than that, they can share until their father builds an extension onto the house." Meg's idea was solid and Christine smiled at her friend.

"Excellent plan, do you agree?" she beamed at me and I grinned as best I could with the white mask in the way.

"Excellent plan, Meghan."

"Thank you," she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Are we done here, it's just a big hole in the ground?"

"We can go back," Christine released me but her eyes held on. "When will you return?"

"For dinner."

"What about lunch? Won't you be hungry?"

"No, say hello to Cameron and Clotilda for me." Christine hesitated to leave and I shooed the girls away so I could get started.

I was digging for less than an hour when I could feel someone approaching. Unless it was Berou, it had to be my help so I took a short rest to greet my worker. It was Bernard himself, carrying his tools and a lunch basket. I tried to hide my shock but really I should not have been shocked. He was the best out of all the men. I was pleased that he came to help, pleased that I wouldn't have to watch over the person helping me. He probably loved that I could no longer hide my life from him.

"Good morning Erik," he called out as he neared the site.

"Morning," I repeated loudly enough for him to hear.

"What a location! Just lovely, your wife will adore it." The mention of Christine brought a smile to my face.

"She already does," I mussed, daydreaming until he stopped in front of me.

"One worker reporting for duty," Bernard tried not to look too excited but he really was. I eyed him up.

"Shouldn't you be with your family on the sabbath day?" I knew his wife was very religious and their Sunday's were usually spoken for.

"Emily agreed that I was the best man for this job."

"Do you discuss all work matters with your wife?" I was happy it was Bernard here to help and yet I was still annoyed. I could only imagine how annoyed a stranger would have made me.

"Only the ones that affect her and the children," he glanced at the ground behind me and dropped his baggage. "You've got a good start. We should be able to lay stone after lunch." He stepped right into the hole with his shovel in hand. "Just follow those marks?" he pointed to the lines I'd marked off the other day.

"Yes, follow the lines. Did you procure the stone already?" I jumped back into the hole.

"You said prompt," he made his first mark in the soil with the shovel and I stared at it. Even if that's all he did, it was now official that I did not make the house entirely on my own. I shrugged off the disappointment and began shoveling. Help would make it go faster, which would please not only Christine, but myself. "I brought a wagon full. It's sitting out front of your father's front door. I wasn't sure of the road out here. Are you going to build a road? I suppose you will have to, how else will people come to your house?"

He continued on, making one-sided conversation as we both dug. He eventually ran out of words and breath and the only noise was our shovels. Time ticked by and as the sun rose to it's precipice I heard skirts swishing. I looked up and found Christine walking towards us. She had a blanket over one arm and was holding something else which I deduced was lunch for me. I swung myself out of the hole and quickly washed my hands in the stream before I greeted her.

"Are you hungry?" she asked with a smile and my lips quirked.

"No pet, but thank you for the food." I took the armload from her. "Today I will let this go, but from this day on you are not allowed to visit the site until I bring you myself." I held up my finger to stop her argument. "This house is to be your wedding gift from me, I want something of it to be a surprise."

She crossed her arms and pouted and I could feel Bernard watching us. "You make me crazy with your secrecy."

"You make me crazy with your pouting lips," I growled at her playfully and her cheeks flushed.

"Are you going to introduce me, Erik?" she asked quietly, changing the subject, and I turned to show off my future wife.

Bernard was polite and courteous and Christine suggested we sit down and have lunch while she visited. "I'll only be here a few minutes," she patted my cheek and then plopped to the ground on the spread out blanket followed by us two men. She asked Bernard about his children and his wife and if he liked working for me as we ate the sandwiches she'd brought and I fought the urge to check the time.

"What is Meghan doing?" I interrupted after Bernard finished eating and they'd spoken enough.

"Nadir is showing her how to win a game of chess in ten moves."

"It must be almost time for you to go to the Inninbalm's." Christine gave me a look and then rolled her eyes.

"I know when I'm not wanted," she made a light joke but I did not find it funny.

"Your company is always wanted," my brow furrowed at her and Bernard thanked Christine for the lunch and excused himself to get to work.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," Christine beamed at him, ignoring me completely. "Perhaps we could come visit your family and I could meet your children sometime."

"That would be lovely, Mlle Daae." Bernard bowed as Christine laughed easily.

"Call me Christine." He got back to work and I turned to my bride, somewhat miffed.

"Your company is always wanted," I repeated and she smiled as she stroked my cheek and played her fingers through my hair.

"Not when you have work to get done." I wanted to assert that I always wanted her around, but she was frustratingly logical.

"Your company is still desired even though I don't have time to enjoy it." I grumbled and she laughed and hugged me tightly.

"I love you, Erik." My frown turned itself around and I hugged her back.

"I love you too. I will see you at dinner."

"It will seem a lifetime away," she left me with a gentle touch and a suggestive smile and I watched her walk until she was out of sight.

When I turned back to work, Bernard was shoveling with a smile on his face. I ignored his mirth and got back to work.

The days began to pass faster than I ever remember time moving. There was so much to do and so much to take care of and so much I wanted to be doing that the days leading up to Christmas were just a blur of work and sex. Fortunately Cameron took charge of all the opera issues, but I still had meetings with him every evening about the days rehearsal and progress. Christine began to blossom even more with all the individual rehearsal time and so far we did not get a visit from anyone demanding their cut of the profits.

Work on the house, was going smoothly. The weather was cold and crisp but I was lucky there was no precipitation yet. Bernard helped me when he could and by the end of the first week the foundation was laid and the walls were climbing. He had plenty of work to see to at our other build and that foundation was having issues with proper leveling. I could have lent a hand there, but I selfishly needed my days to take care of Christine's house and my new opera house and there was no way I was giving up my nights in Christine's arms.

One night's ecstasy melded into another until I wasn't sure which night we'd made love by the piano, on the couch, or on my bedroom floor unable to wait until we got to the bed. We were both insatiable. It was not just me that never got my fill of her for she often pulled me to her body for the second round.

For all her innocence, she was learning to be quite the vixen, batting her lashes at me and twirling her hair coquettishly. Even when she did these things purely out of innocence, they were wholly erotic. There was the one night she dropped her comb and leaned over to pick it up. Before straightening all she did was glance at me and I was up like a shot, eager to capitalize on the look in her eye.

Everything was progressing perfectly smoothly. Plans for our wedding were being finalized and the work on both houses was moving along. Christine was the perfect diva, kind to everyone, gracious and polite, always ready to try a scene again, never throwing tantrums or storming off the stage. During the one rainy day where I stayed to watch rehearsal with Cameron, she radiated her golden glow onto everyone present. When she descended from the stage to join me at my seat I couldn't resist rushing to her side to embrace her and tell her how I love her.

Everyone loved her. Carlotta could still be caught glaring at my angel, but even she offered some help when Christine was having trouble moving in the massive skirts required for Hannibal. My life was suddenly full to the brim, I was never lonely and never really thought of the hundreds of days that I'd lived through with darkness in my heart. I was a different man, confident, bold even when it came to Christine. If people noticed the rubber on my face they never mentioned it and none of the people I spoke to cowered in fear when I opened my mouth. Life was good and soon Christine would be mine forever, in the eyes of the church and in front of all of Paris. For the first time in my life, I was happy. I was content. I was a man and no longer a ghost of one.


	56. Proposal

**_Author's note: Please read this chapter even if you are not interested in Meg's POV, you may find her POV is quite fun! And the middle part is Christine's POV so read on!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**Meg**

I sat to the side of the stage, pretending to stretch and watched three of my former friends flirting with Cameron. Julie was the ring leader. She laughed and tittered, touching his arm in a familiar manner and I almost growled. She had no interest in him and yet, would flirt just to make me mad. She was such a cow. I could hardly believe that I'd called her my best friend at one point. Christine showed me what true friends are like.

I glanced at Christine out in the audience area sitting with Erik. Their heads were close as they spoke of something and Christine suddenly laughed and touched Erik's leg. I smiled at the sight they made. I liked to give them trouble, but it was mostly because I was jealous. They were so in love and so blissfully happy and so in tune with one another. Who wouldn't want to be in love like that? I sighed and glanced back at Cameron. His eyes were on me and I smiled for him before lowering my eyes demurely and stretching my chest down to the floor.

I tried not to grin at the thought that he may still be watching me, even though Julie was trying her best to keep his attention. I still had yet to figure out how he felt about me. He was always kind and gentlemanly and was a wonderful friend, funny too, but he often made conversation with every girl who crossed his path. He was definitely a smooth talker. He often had not only me, but every woman he spoke to, giggling like a child. After spending one afternoon and a few dinners at his house with him and his grandmother, I decided that he didn't know what he wanted yet and was keeping his options open.

I heard him laugh and glanced back at the group to find Julie massaging his shoulders. She gave me a prissy smile behind his back and I schooled myself to look away and ignore her. Being Christine's friend was also teaching me how to be more ladylike and though I wanted to sneer and stick out my tongue at Julie, I decided to get up and go through some of the dances without music. Christine had kindly mentioned that Cameron's eyes always followed me when I danced, so I hummed a few bars of music and began twirling. No one was on the stage so I had the entire floor to move on and I used it. Dancing was the only time I ever felt free and I gave everything to the music when I danced.

My mother's nagging meant nothing, Julie and the other dancers' abandonment meant nothing, even Cameron's flirting meant nothing while I was dancing. I finished one of my solos and feminine clapping got my attention. I spun around and grinned at Christine who was smiling right back at me.

"Brava!" She called out and Erik almost smiled too.

"Thank you darling," I took an extravagant bow as much more masculine clapping tore my eyes from Erik and Christine. Cameron was clapping for me as well and I met his solemn eyes with my own.

"You were born to dance, Mlle Giry." He gave me the compliment right in front of everyone and I felt an uncharacteristic blush warm my cheeks.

"Merci Comte." My stomach fluttered nervously as he wheeled himself closer, leaving Julie and her minions behind. His dark brown eyes did not leave my face and I felt myself moving to the front of the stage, where he was headed, without actually making that mental decision.

"You have such effortless grace, it is not something that can be taught. You don't even need music to keep an audience riveted." The compliments rolled off his tongue and even as my heart sped to hear him say such things about me, my brain told me that he probably said it to all the dancers.

"Thank you again, but you will give me a swelled head with all this talk."

"We could speak of other things?" He smiled warmly at me and my lips curled with him, unable to resist.

"Such as?" I sat at the front of the stage.

"Oh, the weather in Spain, the price of a new pair of shoes or maybe why your mother hates me?" he asked softly with a curious light in his chocolate eyes.

I looked down at my knees as my face flushed. He knew my visits to his home were not allowed and most often Erik and Christine were my cohorts. "She doesn't hate you..." I started, but couldn't figure out what to say.

"Then why is she storming over to us right now." I looked around madly for my mother, but she was no where in sight, and Cameron laughed. "Just kidding." He grinned at me and I fixed him with a glare, even though his joke was a good one.

"Maybe she doesn't like jokers?" I wished my hair was down so I could play with it, but it was tucked away in its customary bun.

He was still laughing and enjoying his joke, "Maybe she doesn't like cripples?"

"Don't say that word," I grumbled and suddenly spied Albert Rinton walking hesitatingly down the aisle. I jerked and stood quickly and I saw Erik stand to come to my defense. Cameron glanced behind himself and his laughter died.

"Monsieur Rinton?" He turned his chair around and Albert looked frightened.

"Comte Inninbalm." He bowed his head and then glanced at me quickly. "Bonjour Meghan." Cameron cleared his throat and Albert's eyes widened. "I mean Mademoiselle, Bonjour Mademoiselle Giry." He stepped forward and I could see Erik relax and sit back down beside Christine, even though their eyes stayed on this little show that I was the star in. "I wish to apologize for my behavior and I beg that you will forgive me. I swear I will never again..." his voice dropped, "Do what I did...to any woman. I am an ill bred scum who deserves any hatred you hold towards me and I will try for the rest of my life to make it up to you."

It did not sound like anything Albert would have come up with on his own and I looked at Cameron. He was watching me again and I felt my brow furrowing in anger. Was this some kind of test? Was this his way of acting as my knight? If it was, it sucked.

"Thank you Albert. Very nicely said, but I have already forgotten all about you and don't really want to look at your face ever again, let alone for the rest of my life. Do you think you could just leave me alone instead? Maybe get run over by a carriage too while you're at it?" With that I turned away from both men and went to hide at the side of the stage.

I was so mad at Cameron for humiliating me like that. I wanted to storm to the front of the stage, rip my slippers off and toss them at his head. How dare he make a public spectacle of my private business? I wouldn't have cared if he humiliated only Albert, but to make him apologize publically. Not only that, but to prepare him a speech too!

"Pompous, arrogant flirt!" I growled as I spied Cameron leaving the auditorium. Christine came quietly into the corner where I was childishly hiding and gave me a pitying look. "I hate him," I spat out, itching to go shove his chair over and watch him wiggle on the floor.

"You don't hate him," she put her arms around me, the epitome of reason.

"Yes, I do." I grumbled as I nuzzled into her hug. She was a good hugger. She had the ability to make me feel so right sometimes, like I was the center of her universe.

"Hate and love are both strong emotions," she patted my hair lovingly. "He probably thought you would want Albert to publicly debase himself."

"Hrmmph," I huffed and finally let go of Christine. "For a smart man, he's incredibly stupid."

"Erik went to speak to him. Maybe he will be able to shed some light on this...quandry we are all in."

I waved angrily, "What quandry? He doesn't care at all about me. He's a wanton flirt who would just as easily break my heart as make it soar."

"Now, Meg, Cameron is a gentleman. To give attention to anyone means he must give his attention to all."

I crossed my arms at her logic. "So is Erik not a gentleman then, because he gives all his attention to you?"

"Erik sees things a little differently. He doesn't think it's rude to only pay attention to me. He was not brought up like Cameron," her face looked distant and sad for a moment and then she caught herself and smiled at me. "And I know you don't hate him."

"Hmmph," I could only grunt.

"I've never seen anyone make you blush like he can. What did he say to turn you so red?" She was curious as a kitten and I squirmed on my feet.

"Nothing..." I looked off to the side, hoping she would let it go and she did. She was the best of friends.

"Well, did you notice how scared Albert looked? I wonder what Cameron did to make him so scared?" Before we could speculate any further, the music stand was rapped for our attention. Monsieur Reyer was back at his post and looking for everyone's eyes.

"From the top!" he called out and Christine waved as she dashed across to the other side of the stage where she would enter from. I leaned on the wall, already close to my starting position and grumbled to myself about men and their complicating gestures.

"Why did Al apologize to you?" Julie asked sweetly from my left.

"None of your business." I sneered at her, curling my lip up in disgust.

"Oh, is the poor baby jealous?" She flashed her teeth at me in an attempt at a smile and I uncrossed my arms and stood up to her.

"Why would I be jealous of an orphaned, old witch like you?"

Her face flickered and then turned nasty. "At least I don't have a crazy mother," she hissed. "You know craziness is heriditary?"

"Your mother probably left you in the street herself."

"You are just mad because I monopolize all of your _boyfriend's_ time."

"And you are ugly," I stated matter-of-factly and she threw herself at me. We toppled over with a crash and she was pulling at my hair while I tried to wrestle out from under her. "Get off me, you're so heavy!"

"You think you're so great!" Her nails scratched at my face and I had to quickly grab her wrist to keep from getting claw marks on my cheek. A few men began pulling Julie off me and I brushed at my clothing while others helped me up.

"Keep your claws to yourself, you she-beast!" I touched my face where I thought she might have got me and came away with blood.

Julie pulled against her captors, "You've had it coming for a long time," she growled, "Always acting like you own the place."

"Don't get mad at me because no one wants you anymore. Even Raoul dropped you like a hot coal." It was extremely cruel of me to bring up Raoul when she'd told me in confidence that she hadn't seen him in quite some time and was hurt by his abandonment. I was hurt by hers! And she scratched my face! Wasn't I allowed to be mean?

"Meghan!" A cane rapped the floor of the stage and people scattered. My mother's face was harsh and though it softened when I met her eye, I still knew she was angry at me, again. "Come here," she demanded and I came quickly. Her hand touched my cheek and I thought I could maybe get out of this because I'd been injured. "Go see Francois and he will clean this, we don't want it to get infected."

That was all she said and she turned to Julie with a frown. I scampered off, glad that I dodged that! I hurried into the hall and Cameron and Erik were twenty feet from the door, in a heated discussion. They both stopped talking and looked at me. Erik reacted first, or maybe he just moves faster.

"Meghan! Your face? What happened? Is Christine alright?" He looked off to the auditorium and I laughed dryly.

"She's fine for now, but if Julie would cut me up then she probably dreams of doing much worse to Christine."

"Julie did this?" Cameron asked, coming close, with concern on his face.

"What do you care?" I felt petulant and my cheek was beginning to throb.

"I care," he said softly and Erik gave him a look before carefully inspecting my cheek.

"Go see Francois," he ordered and I rolled my eyes.

"That's where I'm trying to go, but everyone keeps stopping me." A little exaggeration never hurt.

"Go," Erik's brow was furrowed at me and I sighed heartily before continuing on my way.

"Meghan?" Cameron's voice sounded strained and I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Erik was gone and only Cameron was left in the hall with me. I stopped and raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for whatever he wanted to say. He did not speak but came closer and closer until he was right next to me. His knee brushed my leg and he took my hand to squeeze it tightly. "I do care about you, Meghan." His eyes were searching mine and they pierced me with his conviction. If I wasn't already jaded of men, and him included, I might have believed that he was trying to tell me he loved me.

I gently took my hand from his. "Maybe you should let me tend to my cheek, Julie isn't the cleanest person around." I had to throw in an insult towards her so he wouldn't even consider her as a possible paramour.

"We need to speak privately, Meghan." Now he looked distressed and those large brown eyes reminded me of a puppy dog's forlorn gaze.

"If this is about Albert, forget it, no big deal, what's done is done..." I backed up as I babbled, feeling way too hopeful at the look on his face.

"This is not about Albert." His eyes seemed to drink me in, "This is about us." He looked so sincere, like he wished there could be an us but circumstances were beyond his control. The look made my heart race, but I knew I should be reasonable.

"There is no us." I was able to keep the tears from filling my eyes as he tore to the surface all my dreams of love and children with him. Why did I still want to bear his children when he was a shameless flirt? Who knows! I had no answers about the way he made me feel or about the things I wanted to do to him...

"There better not be!" my mother's hard voice cut through my thoughts and she was there, with Julie by the arm, glaring at me and Cameron both.

"Francois!" I turned and ran down the hall to Francois' modest first aid room. He might not even be there but there was a bell that would summon him if he wasn't.

The cut was not too deep but the she-beast clawed three nails about two inches down my cheek, the middle scratch the deepest and bleeding. I hoped it wouldn't scar, but I was not thinking positively about it. It probably would scar and I would be so hideous that no man would want me.

I immediately felt childish for thinking such a thing. Erik's face was half missing and torn by nails as well and yet Christine loved him dearly. Was I so shallow that I thought only physical appearance would matter? I shuffled down the hall back to the auditorium, wanting to delay the rest of this day. Maman was going to lecture me about pursuing inappropriate men and the dangers of taunting other girls and on and on until I thought of smothering myself in my pillow. Christine would want to talk about Julie, and I would have to warn her to watch out for her nails. Cameron wanted to talk to me about us...

My heart fluttered with hope and I stopped outside the auditorium to lean against the wall. Why would he suddenly want to talk to me privately? What exactly did Erik say to him? If he told him I was pining for him I just might scratch Erik myself. I peeked into the grand room to see if Erik was sitting with Christine again, but she was alone and the chorus was running through a number.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked from behind me and I jumped and spun to find him a few feet away.

"I don't want to go back in yet," I whispered, moving closer to him so our voices could stay low.

"Your mother is still in the office with Cameron and Julie," he was studying the job Francois had done on my cheek.

"I'm not hiding from Maman," I tried to make him believe it but he raised his eyebrow at me and I rolled my eyes. "So why is she in there with Mr Wheels and the she-beast?"

Erik's lips quirked at my nicknames and he led me slightly further from the door and around a corner. "We may fire Julie but she has no where to go. Cameron doesn't like the thought of throwing her onto the streets even though I don't particularly care what he does with her. Your mother wants her gone and she is very determined once she sets her mind to something. I agreed with her and it was only Julie's weeping and Cameron's stubborness that have them still in there deciding."

"Stupid Mr Wheels, siding with the she-beast..." I grumbled and Erik touched me on the arm.

"Do you not like Cameron?" he searched my face and I felt myself blushing.

I shrugged, uncomfortably, and tried to explain. "It's not that I don't like him, I just don't like some of the things that he does. Like flirt with anything with breasts and embarrass me in front of everyone with Albert..."

"I told him you didn't like that," Erik looked smug.

I had a strong urge to shove him, "Why didn't you stop him before he did it?"

"He doesn't share his every move with me," Erik looked at me like I was naive. "I could tell by your face that you were not happy with what transpired."

"What girl would like to have her laundry aired in front of everyone..." I was back to grumbling.

"He thought you might give Albert another chance."

"WHAT?" I goggled at Erik and he shushed me quickly. "Why," I hissed, "Would he EVER think that?"

"Well, you were intimate with him." Erik was studying me with those sharp eyes of his and I felt the blush rising up my face.

"I didn't realize it was such common knowledge," I gritted out between my teeth.

"Apparently Albert told him everything." My cheeks could not redden any more as I recalled everything that I'd done with Albert and now knowing that Cameron knew. No wonder he wasn't interested in me. "Meghan," Erik held my hand, his face showing his concern. "I have told Cameron he is a fool. He must get married and produce an heir to gain back his inherited lands and he thinks you are beautiful, but he doesn't want to tie you down."

"What? Isn't that what happens when you get married?" He thought I was beautiful?

"He thinks that by marrying you it would cripple your spirit." I was glad that Erik was revealing all this to me but it was making me think Cameron really was stupid.

"That is just dumb." I didn't know what else to say.

"I should not have broken his confidence like this, but the two of you are driving me insane. If he asked you, would you marry him?" Erik's piercing grey eyes were searching mine for the answer to his question and I looked away.

"I don't know, does he even know if he can have children?"

"Now that is something he certainly has not shared with me," Erik sounded like he was laughing at me and I glanced at him quickly.

"I probably would say yes," I replied quietly. "I really like him, Erik. He's so funny and sweet, even though he flirts with EVERYONE. But Maman would never let me."

"I can take care of her," Erik grabbed my chin to make me look at him. "Do you want him, Meghan?" His direct gaze was hard to look away from and the intensity in his eyes made me feel like he could make any dream come true.

"Yes," I answered weakly. Erik relaxed and released me and glanced around the empty hall.

"I will make it happen for you and for him. You are both being foolish about this. Now you best get back to rehearsal."

I hurried back into the auditorium with Erik's words swirling in my head. 'I will make it happen for you.'

**Christine**

I was packing a small bag of clothing when Meg knocked on my door and came in. Today was Christmas Eve and we were spending the next few days at Nadir's. There was no rehearsal until after Christmas, to give everyone a small break before debuting Hannibal and beginning a long series of performances. Meg looked fit to burst and her poor cheek was red and bandaged.

"He thinks I'm beautiful, Christine!" she beamed and then grabbed her face. "Ouch! Argh that cow!" she fumed. "Now I'm not beautiful anymore! Oh if I get a chance I'm going to..."

"This is from Erik," I handed her a small jar of ointment that Erik had made last night after the fight, hoping it would interrupt her tirade. The whole opera house was ablaze with theories of the fight and what the outcome would be. The talk annoyed me. Why didn't people just mind their own business? "He said to apply it tonight and make sure you do not sleep on it after you apply a thin layer. Use it every night and the cuts will vanish in about four days."

"Vanish?" Her face looked unsure as she took the jar. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"I don't know?"

"Don't you wonder?" she gave me a look and I shrugged lightly.

"It will work. Erik is a genius." I turned to grab the small parcel that I'd carefully wrapped. "Merry Christmas!" I handed Meg the fine gloves I'd monogramed with her initial.

"Oh," she squealed and hugged me. "I left your present for tomorrow. Maman said we will join you and the Karans for supper. Can I bring it then?"

"Of course, Erik already told me you were coming and I wanted you to be able to wear that tomorrow."

Meg's face looked thoughtful as she gently felt the package, I thought she was trying to determine what was inside but she startled me. "Maman suddenly decided we would join you when I figured it was the last thing she wanted to do...did Erik hypnotize her do you think?"

"He wouldn't..." I started and Meg cut me off.

"He told me about Cameron." Her eyes were huge with hope. "Erik says he can make it happen, says we are being foolish, says Cameron wants me. Do you think it's all true? Can all my dreams come true?" she was trembling and I sat her on the bed.

"If Erik says it is so, then I believe him. He does not tell lies, Meg."

"He needs to produce an heir, apparently, but doesn't want to use me," she rolled her eyes. "Little does he know, I want him to use me over and over..."

"Meghan!" I put a hand to my chest in shock and she giggled.

"Oh please," she laughed, "We're all girls here." I started giggling with her, knowing exactly how she felt. Erik could have me a million times and I would still want more.

Meg left shortly and I continued packing. Erik picked me up around eleven and we made our way to Nadir's.

"Are you excited?" I asked him, lifting my cheek from his shoulder where it had rested for some time.

"You will have to be more specific, my love? Excited about what? You?" his hand trailed gently down my side and I moved closer.

"Naughty, naughty..." I laughed lightly as I kissed his mouth playfully. "I meant about Christmas."

Erik pulled me closer, his hands fully caressing my waist and hips. "No," he said simply and then seared me with a heart stopping kiss. My breath was stolen as I melted against him, heat flushing through me. He ended it just as quickly and sat away from me, though his breath was uneven.

I sagged against the seat, not quite steady, and tried to recall what I just asked him. Was he trying to distract me? Was the question that intrusive?

"I'm sorry, Christine," he spoke softly, entwining our hands.

"Sorry? For what?" I was still muddled.

"I...I was trying to distract you, so you wouldn't be angry that I was not excited about Christmas."

I laughed. "I would never refuse a kiss from you, but that wasn't necessary, Erik." My face was spread wide in a smile and Erik looked serious.

"I did not want to disappoint you," he began and I stopped his words with my fingertips.

"You never have. No more negativity. It's Christmas!" I kissed him again and he relaxed.

"I am interested to see what you've been planning, but I would not say I'm all that excited. Are you excited?" he asked sincerely.

"Yes," I beamed and then cuddled to his shoulder once more. "Christmas was always a happy time, visiting with loved ones and exchanging gifts, eating food until you felt you might pop. I will miss Papa's music and his Christmas Eve story about Joseph and Mary but...my new life will eventually have rituals and I'm glad Mme Giry and Meg will join us tomorrow. Maybe I can try telling everyone the story of Jesus' birth."

"Whatever you wish, my dear," he murmured softly.

"One thing I wish we could change..." I trailed off, wondering how I was so bold as to bring this up.

"Yes?"

"Our bedroom assignments." My voice was small but he heard me. His hands tightened on mine.

"It is not proper for us to share a room before we are married and even then married people don't always share a bedroom. They have separate quarters and only come together for...relations." I couldn't help giggling at his discomfort. This man was wholly passionate when it came to so many things and he was having trouble talking about making love to me. My giggles sobered when I realized what he was saying.

"Are you building us separate bedrooms?" I sounded like I was pouting and pressed my lips together to keep them from jutting out.

"No." He paused for a moment before he continued softly. "Is that alright? Do you want your own room?"

"No," I answered quickly and kept babbling. "I want to sleep with you every night. I don't think I would be able to sleep with you down the hall. What a silly thing, separate bedrooms, why are you married if not to spend your time with one another?"

"I suppose some people prefer some privacy still, even though they have given their vows to each other." But not us. He was building us a joint bedroom and I was very pleased.

"I suppose I can manage two nights without you next to me," there was that pouting note in my voice again.

"Oh, and here I was going to scale the wall and come through your window like your fairytale lover." I laughed with Erik and we cuddled close for the remainder of the journey. I still wanted to ask him about Meg and Cameron and what he was planning for them but maybe I could bring it up tonight when he snuck into my room.

**Meg**

Erik was turning out to be quite a formidable man. I could see why my mother was frightened of him. First thing this morning Maman had come to tell me to get my nicest clothing ready to visit the Karan's house on Christmas Day. I was excited, certainly, to be able to see Christine and spend the holiday with her and Erik, but I was surprised Maman agreed to it.

I was missing an important part of the equation and I couldn't help wondering if Erik had indeed hypnotized Maman to get what he wanted.

I was glad that him and Cameron had purchased the opera house. They were far better managers then our last two, they had musical ability and a desire to see the cast rise to their best performances. Perhaps it was why Erik had hung around the opera house so much and been dubbed the Phantom. He was not really scary once you spoke to him. He was too polite and gracious to be scary, but I could see why he was feared. He could scowl with the best of them and was very intelligent. Brains were their own weapon. There did not seem to be anything he could not do. I tucked the tiny jar under my pillow so I would remember to apply it tonight. If he said the scraps would vanish then I would believe him and apply it diligently.

I pinned half of my hair up in a simple style and then left my bedroom to meet with Cameron. He had asked to talk to me and today he was firing a few crew members so he should have time for a meeting if I waited my turn. As long as Maman did not come down the hallway then I should be safe. I sat down beside a scenery painter who spent more time drinking then painting and he heaved a sigh of relief when I did.

"Does my heart good to see you here. I know you won't be gettin' fired so maybe I won't neither."

"Oh no," I patted his knee briefly. "You are being fired, but the managers are not cruel. You will get a severance to carry you through Christmas." He looked taken aback and sad but he didn't talk to me anymore and when Cameron opened the door to let one person go and call in the drinker his eyes landed on mine.

"Mlle Giry?" his voice...it was not the musical and throaty perfection of Erik's voice but it affected me just as much. Was it the timbre? Or the polite yet indifferent inflection? Or was it because he was speaking my name?

"You wanted to speak with me?" I blinked innocently at him and he started to smile.

"I will be a few more minutes," he waved for the drunken painter to come in and I patted him on the back.

"Chin up," I reminded him and then settled back down by myself in the hallway.

The minutes ticked by slowly because I was on the lookout for my mother. She had lectured me for hours last night, but I think the scratches on my cheek had kept her from really tearing into me. She wanted me to be this perfect person that I did not know and had never seen before. She herself could never teach me the tolerance required to be so perfectly forgiving because she was not tolerant at all, but she somehow expected me to be.

I slouched against the chair wondering what Cameron was going to say. Would he admit his feelings or keep hiding? Maybe explain why he was being so dumb? An explanation would be nice. Erik had shed some light on the situation, but it did not fully explain why he would not pursue me. Besides my mother being crazy.

The door opened and I stood eagerly and then wished I had stayed sitting to appear more nonchalant and at ease, but it was too late. The painter was walking away with some bulging pockets and a smile. I watched him walk away knowing he would probably drink himself silly with half his money.

"Mlle Giry," Cameron spoke intimately. "You may come in now." He turned without a response and I followed him in and shut the door. I was suddenly incredibly nervous and I stood at the door, leaning back on it for support. Cameron sat behind the desk and looked officious. "How are you today?" He did look genuinely interested and I took a deep breath, but my throat was closing with nerves and my heart was beating so quickly that I felt faint.

"Fine." What was wrong with me? One word answers were not very like me. I was always ready with something witty and funny to say, but suddenly I was a bumbling idiot.

"Would you care to sit?" he gestured to a chair across from his desk and I shuffled forward and plunked myself down.

"I love the way you move." He spoke quietly and almost conspiratorially, flashing me a quick smile when I glanced up. I did not stand a chance against this man. He was trained and schooled in how to send women swooning and I was just a silly dancer with too many hopes and dreams.

"I am a dancer, I suppose I should be graceful." I tried to poke some fun into my serious feelings.

"You are effortlessly graceful, I could watch you forever." Something about the way he said that made me blush and I couldn't look at him. "Meghan?" he tried to get me to look up but I kept studying my entwined hands. "Erik has said some things to me, he seems to think that you carry more than friendly feelings for me."

So Erik did tell him I was pining for him! I would be having a few loud words with Erik about butting out and minding his own...

"And I think it is time that I admit to you, that I also feel more than friendly towards you." I finally met his gaze and those dark brown eyes were weighing me down with his true feelings. "Could you really not tell?" his brow furrowed slightly. "Have I invited anyone else to my home to meet my grandmama?"

When he put it that way I felt sort of stupid myself, but it was Erik and Christine who brought me there and he flirts so well with others...

"Do I kiss any other fingers but yours?" Did he really not kiss other girls on the hand? How did I not notice that?

I was having a hard time vocalizing anything and he began rolling around the desk. My heart thrummed into my throat as he stopped beside me and stared into my eyes. His hand rose to touch my torn up cheek, "You keep getting hurt..." His throat also seemed to be tightening and the sound of his voice strained gave me some courage. I reached up and took his hand as butterflies took over my stomach.

"Cameron..." he was so handsome, and his lips were so close...

I leaned towards him and half way there, realized what I was doing. I could have backed away. I had one second where I could have backed up and feigned light-headedness for my leaning, but Cameron leaned to meet me. Our lips met in a kiss that sealed my fate. I loved him. I couldn't explain it or rationalize my instant attraction. When it came to Cameron Inninbalm, I just felt.

Right now I felt like a surge of warm tendrils were spreading over my body...

The kiss only lasted a few moments before he stopped us, but his free hand stayed on my face and his eyes stayed closed. "I'm sorry, Meghan, I should not have kissed you."

"Don't..." I swallowed to ground myself. "Don't say that unless you really mean it."

He started to smile with his hand still on my neck, warm and smooth, sliding to the nape of my neck under my hair. "I didn't mean it." He said softly, his eyes drowning me with their chocolately depths. "I wanted to kiss you. I still want to kiss you."

I swallowed again to stop myself from saying alright and jumping into his lap. "Is there more we should speak about?" I felt like we were getting off track even though we had just taken a huge step forward. Kissing did not lead to marriage, it only led to the bedroom and if he needed a wife, I wanted to be that wife.

"Yes, there is." He took my hand into his lap and played with my fingers. "Even your fingers are delicate and graceful..." He was allowing me to see that his compliments were not just polite. He truly felt I was beautiful and graceful and his obvious attraction to me was starting to make me more confident.

"Are they too much of a distraction?" I asked playfully. "Should I hide my hands under my skirts?"

He looked up with a lopsided smile, "I am going to refrain from saying anything." I smiled with him and we shared a beautiful moment, looking into each other's eyes and feeling that connection. Whatever it was, attraction, lust, love, we were only just beginning to explore it, but it felt good. His smile dimmed and I recognized his polite manners taking over. I let go of his hand and gathered mine together, knowing it was time to get down to business.

"So, what happens now?" I managed to keep from sounding breathlessly excited.

"I don't know," was not the response I was looking for. I bit my lip and studied his bowed head and pleasing profile. Perhaps I should get him talking about something else.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Part of me wished I could invite him and Clotilda along to the Karan's, but that was not my place.

He studied me with an amused expression. "Erik told me to invite you and your mother for dinner tomorrow, that she may accept, but she flatly refused, saying you already had plans?"

My mouth hung open for a moment and then I burst out laughing, "So that's how he did it!"

"Who did what?" Cameron was smiling and watching me giggle over my mother and Erik's constant fencing.

I waved my hand, "Erik manipulated Maman perfectly. I wanted to have dinner with them on Christmas, but I never thought she would agree. She obviously thought Erik was the lesser of two evils." That thought sobered me because that meant she disliked Cameron more than Erik, which hurt me to think.

"What?" he asked, leaning towards me, his easy smile and warm, friendly eyes making me feel like a little love-sick kitten.

"Nothing," I shook my head and looked down at my lap, embarrassed by how strongly I felt for him. Silence descended and I chastised myself for giving in to the kiss. Now it was all I was thinking of.

"I don't know how to say this...I wish I could..." he shook his head. "Meghan, before I can even think of getting married I need to make sure...I need to..." he looked angry for a second and then took a deep breath to calm himself. "I need to produce an heir and I refuse to marry a woman who cannot produce me with one quickly."

I blinked at him as I digested his words. "So you want to sleep with me...before...?" my voice was slightly unbelieveing at his grossly improper suggestion. Granted, I was no longer a virgin and he knew all the details, but I never expected to hear him say such a thing.

"And if you become pregnant, then I will marry you on the spot." I had no reason to think I would not be fertile and I wanted to mention that a problem could very well lie with him, but the second scenario to his proposal had me standing angrily.

"And if I do not become pregnant, than you would just...move on to the next...contestant?"

"No..." surprise painted his face but then he looked thoughtful. "I don't know..." he was thinking and I turned and kicked the chair I had been sitting in to get his attention.

"You think I'm a faithless whore who will just submit to your advances and allow another rich idiot to lay hands on me!"

"No! Meghan..." he looked furious with me.

"Because you are so irresistible you can just dandy a whole string of dancers on your knee before making your decision."

His jaw was tightly clenched. "My decision to proceed in this manner has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me?" I spluttered. "It has EVERYTHING to do with me, and with my heart." Which I put a hand against to keep it from breaking in my chest. He wanted my womb more than he wanted me. He wanted a child more than he wanted me. But hadn't I already imagined having his children? Did I not yearn for children myself, so I could love them and squeeze them and give them my whole heart...

"Meghan, please, try to understand," he took my hand and though I wanted to wrench angrily away and huff out of the room, his gentle touch on my hand seemed to draw away my anger. The forlorn puppy dog look in his eyes helped too. "I have failed my family, my grandmama and all of my ancestors. I lost the lands that they have controlled for over a hundred years. If I do not produce an heir than they are truly forever lost. I will have disappointed my father and his father and his father's father..." his hand squeezed mine as his head bowed. "Do you want to know the worst part?" he continued though it sounded like he did not want to. "Before they all died, I didn't even care about the land. I was perfectly happy letting my younger brother shoulder the responsibility. And now...now it's all that matters...it's where they are all buried..." he looked upset, torn, confused and almost near tears. I couldn't help the yearning in my heart to make him happy.

I was too close to my dreams to not capitalize on this opportunity. He wanted to save his father's county and I wanted him. We could make this work. I stepped to him and let my hand trail through his hair slowly. It was thick and silky and I gathered a handful and held him to my chest. "Shh Cameron, shh, someone might hear you sobbing and think I'm beating you with my ballet shoes."

A huff of laughter left him and he secured his arms around me, holding me so tight...

"You make me laugh...when I thought I never would again..." He sighed and we held each other like two statues locked together forever in their stony embrace. "Do you really think I'm a rich idiot?"

I snorted lightly, "Sometimes..." I trailed off and then giggled. "You tend to do stupid things."

"Such as?" He shifted his ear from my chest and gazed up at me.

"I think I shall refrain from saying anything at all," I breezed airily and he laughed and trailed his hands over the small of my back to pull me back to him.

"Meghan, I know this situation is miles away from what you deserve, but I think if I didn't offer you what I could, I would drive myself insane wondering if you would have accepted. I've lost count of how many times Erik has called me a fool. He thinks I'm wasting my time avoiding you because he can see how much I love you..."

I froze with my hands absently combing through his hair. I'd had a few men say those words to me and usually they were trying to lay with me. Cameron was too, but his cards were already on the table and the offhanded way he said it led me to think he hadn't meant to say it. I pulled away gently and looked down at him. Albert had convinced me he loved me with grand bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolates, but Cameron truly meant the words. There was no mistaking the hunger, heat, affection and adoration in his eyes.

"I love you, Meghan," he repeated softly as his hands skimmed down my arms to lift my hands to his lips. "It is completely insane," he kissed my hands, "But when you are in the room I can't take my eyes off you. You have such grace and humor and joie de vivre, I feel like some slow, sick turtle whose fallen for the enchanting mermaid." He kissed each and every finger and both my wrists before I was able to articulate an intelligent response.

"But you won't marry me until you impregnate me successfully?" I spelled out what I thought was his plan. His brow furrowed in consternation and he opened and closed his mouth and then finally looked away from me pulling back into his chair.

"That's the gist of it," he said like he hated himself and everything suddenly made sense to me. This was why he felt better off playing cat and mouse with me. He was going to use me, he HAD to use me, and if things did not go well then he would have to move on to another woman to get back his father's county. But he would not want to move on from me because he loved me, so he did not want to give in to even the idea of us together. If we were not fertile together the resulting fall out would hurt us both dreadfully and there would be no marriage to hold us together because he would move on to a woman who may be able to bear his child. Even a woman who was already pregnant...

My heart clenched at the thought of him taking a wife he didn't love, a woman of convenience, who wouldn't love him and care for him, but who would just give him some other man's child. It didn't seem fair at all, to either of us, to not see this through, to not at least try to reach for the dream. If things did not go well, I might just lose that joie de vivre he loved so much.

But what was a little pain if you had a chance to love? To really love? Just from the small kiss we'd shared, I had felt the exhilaration of his touch. Nothing with Albert had felt so magical. Could I turn Cameron down when I wanted him so badly? When I wanted to see what it would be like to be with him? Why would I think that I wouldn't get pregnant? Unless Cameron himself was unable to make babies...

There was only one way to proceed.

"When do we get started?" I asked cheekily.


	57. Christmas

**Erik**

Christine, Nadir and I enjoyed a lovely, relaxing Christmas Eve. I went to the site for a few hours in the afternoon and returned in time to wash before dinner. We sat around the fire afterwards and each of us told a story. Nadir told an amusing tale of a tiny rabbit who outsmarted a big, hungry wolf. I shared with them both the story of a fantastical underwater voyage of a submarine called the Nautilus that I had read not too long ago. When I finished Christine asked if she could tell a more religious story and we both did not mind. She told us the story of Joseph and Mary and the birth of their son Jesus in a manger. I found the tale much more enjoyable then ever before. She was animated and articulate and wove the tale wonderfully. Her father would have been proud. I could almost imagine that our children were gathered with us around the fire, their bright eyes fixed on their mother. My heart felt full to bursting with love for her.

When the stories were done I brought out Papa's violin and played it for my beautiful bride. She was so happy to have me play that she was reduced to tears for minutes afterwards and I had to rock her in my arms right in front of Nadir. He did not seem upset by the exchange, on the contrary, it put an easy smile on his face as he stretched back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Christine showed us how to tie little bundles of straw together to make small stars, which apparently were to be hung on the Christmas tree, which I needed to procure. By the time we dragged ourselves off to bed it was quite late and I had kissed my love goodnight and shuffled to my room to wait until the house was all quiet. I quickly removed my dresscoat and ascot and threw them over the chair. Maybe I did not have to wait. I knew how to be quiet. I readied for bed and grabbed the small vial of laudanum I'd prepared for myself and then stepped into the hall. The house was all dark, but I did not need light.

Christine was waiting for me, sitting on the edge of the bed in her chemise with one flickering candle sending shadows. She waved her fingers as she looked at me from under her lashes and I schooled my body to calm itself. I was here only for sleep, nothing else.

"I've held off asking you this all day," she whispered ,"But I must know what you are planning between Meg and Cameron." The words spilled quickly from her mouth as if she'd been waiting for me to arrive so she could spit them out.

I sat beside her on the bed and shrugged. "I'll just be giving them a helpful push. I've told Cameron at every crossroad that he is a fool. They dance around one another like...well...like dancers."

She laughed, "Except one is in a chair." She sighed and laced our hands together. "Poor Meg is so in love with him."

"I wouldn't worry, pet. Cameron is just as smitten with her."

"Really?" she searched my face. "Has he told you so?"

I traced her cheek with my fingertips, "Some things do not need to be spoken to know they are true."

"I've seen the way he looks at Meg, but a lot of men look at Meg like that." She seemed skeptical.

"But Meghan does not want any of those other men. She has told me she would marry Cameron if he asked, so I just have to get him to ask." I leaned back and laid on the bed with my hands behind my head.

"Mme Giry won't like it." Christine curled beside me, propping her chin on a fist.

"She cannot control her daughter forever."

"But she is her daughter, she can force her away from Cameron."

"Do you really think she will?" I raised a brow at Christine and her lips pursed. "Sooner or later, Meghan will realize that she must choose her own life and not try to live the life her mother wants for her. Can you really see Meg lasting much longer under her mother's thumb?"

"No," Christine agreed.

"Cameron said they spoke yesterday and cleared things between them, but he wouldn't explain. He's very tight lipped when it comes to Meghan. If it wasn't for the dewy look that crosses his face every time she enters the room, I would say he cared not one extra bit for her."

"Meg thinks he's just a big flirt and doesn't mean anything he says."

"He is a smooth talker. He convinced Antoinette to keep Julie on in the dormitories until she can find somewhere else to go."

"I can hardly believe that Julie was so violent..."

I looked at Christine seriously, "I want you to stay on guard when she is around. Do not trust her."

"I know, Erik. I trusted her once and...I won't again."

She craned her lips to mine and I gave into a few deep kisses. I hated to be reminded of that DeChangy scum. Thoughts of him made me want to break things and I knew I handled Christine a little roughly, but as she often did when I was rough, her body melted as her fingers tightened with passion. Why did her submission to my strength make me feel so aroused? I pulled away and began tugging on the bedding.

"What a day," she sighed as we finally crawled under the blankets.

"You enjoyed yourself?" I relaxed as I wound my arms around her.

"Emmensely. Nadir is a wonderful man, Erik. You are lucky to have him."

"I know," my thoughts turned to the man who adopted me at thirty something. He was a good person, our past was behind us and I did feel lucky. For once in my life. I folded Christine's braid around one hand and knew I was doubly lucky. "I love you," I kissed her forehead and she tilted her face up for a more thorough goodnight.

A few minutes passed by while we became completely distracted by the taste of the other's mouth and I finally had to pull away. I rolled to my back and she sighed happily. "I love you too," she whispered as she shuffled closer to curl against my side. It appeared to be time for sleeping so I grabbed the vial off the bedside table.

"What is that?" she asked curiously.

"Laudanum." I uncorked the vial and tipped the contents back.

"Don't you need tea?"

"I hope not." I settled down into the pillow with Christine nestled to my side and a long contented sigh left my body.

The next thing I remember was waking in the light. I could feel the daylight pressing on my eyelids and I pretended to still be sleeping as I tried to discern if Christine was awake. The only time we had ever woken in daylight together was the morning after I assaulted her, in this very room, which was not a happy memory to be thinking of.

I could feel Christine still in the bed beside me and she moved to trail one fingertip lightly over my hair, down my back and over the curve of my backside, which gave her away as being awake. I let her skim her dainty hand over my back a few times, pushing the blanket further and further down, before I began to 'wake up'. I was a little hesitant to let her see me. Daylight, especially morning light, could not be all that flattering to my face. I took a deep breath and told myself what a dolt I was. She loves you, she is marrying you, she is stroking your back side fondly...

I stretched lightly and then rolled over and caught her eye.

"Good morning, ma chardonnerette," I pulled her close, but she was already moving towards me. Her lips crushed to mine and I was flooded with warmth. How do I keep questioning this?

She rolled her own body onto mine, as I usually hold her in the morning, splayed her hands on my cheeks and whispered at my mouth, "Merry Christmas," before she poured herself into kissing me. My brain ceased functioning for an unknown amount of time. My hands were everywhere and anywhere they wanted to go, slowly, gently, loving her. One of her hands traced down my chest and rubbed my hip and thigh as her body rocked against me.

It was an invitation that I was suddenly dying to accept. I pressed my erection against her stomach, winding my arms around her back. She pressed kisses across my face and down my neck, breathing hot, aroused little breaths on the sensitive skin. Something was not right though. I felt like I should be stopping her as she moved her mouth over my chest to lick me.

I tried to distract her. "I...have a present for you." She sucked lightly on my nipple and my back arched off the bed, my hips rolling to meet hers.

"Mmmm...do you?" She didn't seem all that distracted yet, so I tried to keep talking.

"Yes, I do. A present just for you..." she bit my side playfully and then slid back up, so our faces were even.

"Can I open it now?" she asked breathily, her eyes heavy with desire and I wasn't sure if we were speaking of the same thing.

"If you want..." my body was throbbing for her and she wiggled herself on me, rubbing exquisitely against me.

"Oh yes, I want you..." her hands ran down my sides and she started pulling my pants over my hips. I grabbed her hands, shocked, as I recalled just where we were at the moment and she was undressing me!

"Christine," I hissed in disapproval and her startled eyes met mine in confusion.

"You said you had a present..." she trailed off, gesturing at my pants, as I started to smile ridiculously.

"And you think I am it?" I laughed and then slammed my mouth shut, worried that Nadir would hear us if I began to guffaw. "I meant a real present," I was shaking with pent up amusement. "In a box, with a bow." Christine blushed rosily as her hands retreated.

"How am I supposed to know that when your writhing around, making me think..." I cut off her words with a lingering kiss. I licked her lips and she mewled and let me into her mouth. I rolled her to her back, the image of unwrapping her from her chemise like she was my present, floating through my head.

I broke away from her mouth and buried my face in her neck, shuddering pleasantly. I was thinking of the long day ahead of me and how insanely aroused I was and maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give in to her and make love the morning of our first Christmas together...

"I don't know if I can manage today with this on my mind." I spoke into her neck, holding her tight.

"Then let go, Erik," she breathed and began kissing my ear softly. "Make love to me..." I groaned at her soft plea and then slid my hands to the hem of her chemise to pull it from her body. The fabric slithered up and over her head and she lay naked in the morning light, waiting for me, her eyes dark with promise. "I'll be quiet," she vowed with a tiny smile and I laughed as my hand trailed down her stomach, over her navel to the golden brown hair between her legs.

"You'll try..." I purred and then took her womanly secret in my hand. She bit down on her lip as her neck arched back and I made her body dance with just a few gentle movements of my fingers. I loved doing this to her because it gave me a chance to watch her writhing in the pleasure I gave. When we were joined it was much harder to pay attention to her every expression of enjoyment. She had many different ones and I tenderly coaxed each one from her expressive face.

"Erik..." she reached for me and I quickly slid my pants off and then settled over her. I gazed down at her, the light revealing to me just how smooth her cheeks were, the golden strands in her hair, the love in her eyes. Deep enough to drown myself in.

"Merry Christmas, Angel," I whispered and then covered her mouth with mine as I entered her. She moaned into my kiss and her hands grasped my hips as our bodies met. I was not going to last long but I didn't think she would either. She was making noises into our kiss, which was a sure sign of her imminent ecstasy. I delved my tongue deep into her mouth as I flexed my hips into my movements. She tore away from my mouth and cried out, overcome with passion. "Bite me." I ordered her and she dug her teeth into my shoulder to keep silent. We climaxed together, our bodies shuddering in time with our galloping heartbeats. Everything suddenly felt very quiet and I wondered how noisy we were. Our breath began to slow and Christine trailed her palms down my back.

"A very merry Christmas indeed..." she murmured.

**Christine**

I took my time getting dressed. I did not want to go downstairs with my cheeks still flushed knowing that I would look guilty too. I put all of my hair up, twisting it round and round and stabbing a handful of pins into the mass. I had some work to do in the kitchen today and wondered how I would keep it from Erik. He had gone to the house yesterday and left me with plenty of time to bake cookies and prepare some of the food for dinner tonight. He had not mentioned that he would be going today, but he had told me that the Inninbalm's were also joining us for dinner.

"You didn't?" I gaped at him for a moment and then laughed. "Mme Giry will leave and drag Meg with her."

"In front of me, yes, but not in front of Nadir." Erik looked smug and I thought about the possibility.

"You are probably right. Does Meg know?" Erik shook his head.

"I want her to be surprised. I'll tell her it's my Christmas present to her."

Well, Meg was going to be so surprised. I hoped she would dress especially nice. I was curious what Cameron and her had spoken about and wondered if Meghan would try to tell me today. Hopefully they arrived before the Inninbalm's so we would have a chance to catch up.

I quietly left my room and made my way to the dining room. Nadir was there alone with coffee, tea, toast and fruit.

"Good morning," I smiled as I came in.

"Merry Christmas, Christine." When Nadir smiled his eyes positively twinkled, but I knew he did not celebrate Christmas.

"I am so glad to spend it with you." I meant it with all sincerity. I was truly blessed with a new family after losing the only one I'd ever known.

"Erik wanted me to tell you he's gone out to the site but will be back before the Girys arrive."

"Perfect," I rubbed my hands together and Nadir laughed as I poured some coffee.

"He thought you would be upset not to see him this morning." He passed me the cream and I felt myself flushing. Erik never warned me about the things he told others. I was always left scrambling for something to say.

"I am, of course, but this works well. Now I won't have to sneak around, in and out of the kitchen."

"Ah, and Erik is left in the dark, I see." Nadir smiled and began eating his breakfast. I stirred my coffee and stared out the window at the cloudy skies. It looked cold outside and I hoped that Erik was warm.

**Meg**

Maman and I arrived at the Karan's and their strange looking butler took our coats and directed us to the music room.

Erik and Christine were hanging little straw ornaments on a tree and Mr. Karan sat in a nearby chair laughing at something that had been said. They painted a domestic picture and I was glad for it. Maybe Maman would calm down and quit hyperventilating over Erik being evil.

"You don't even realize he is making you do things," she whispered in the ride over, wringing her hands worriedly. "You cannot stop yourself from answering his questions." I remembered his eyes boring into mine and asking me if I wanted Cameron. I looked out the window and pretended not to hear her.

Erik would never do anything to hurt me. Everything he's ever done for me has been good. My cheek didn't need the bandage today because of his ointment. One application and the scratches were a hundred times better. He would make me beautiful again and would help me capture Cameron. Did he have to keep doing these wonderful things for me, to have my love and friendship?

Maman was just prejudiced and frightened. Maybe if I watched him kill somebody I would be frightened too. I held Maman's hand as we joined the group by the tree.

"Meghan!" Christine exclaimed and ran to hug me. "You look beautiful in that dress."

We all exchanged pleasantries and my mother thanked Nadir for having us over to share this special day.

"I am always happy to open my doors to such lovely ladies." Nadir worked his considerable charm on my mother. Maybe she fell for his charisma because his sparkling eyes reminded her of father, or maybe she thought Nadir himself was handsome. Father has been dead for 6 years now, and my mother was still young enough to be married again. Though she seemed to prefer to act like a nun and force her ways on me.

"Meghan, will you come fetch some cookies with me?" Christine smiled winningly. "I definitely smelled cookies being made yesterday."

I left quickly with her and she took my hand excitedly.

"Cameron and Clotilda are coming for dinner." Christine spilled out as soon as we were far enough away from the piano room.

"What!" I clenched her hand in mine and was instantly worried.

"I thought you would be happy," Christine pouted slightly. "What did he say yesterday?" her words were full of dread, thinking he'd said something awful. I wanted to tell her everything but I knew she would be scandalized. The last thing I wanted was for Christine to demand answers from Cameron in front of Maman. I opted for an abbreviated version.

"He said he loved me," I offered and Christine smiled.

"That's good."

"But we're going to take things very slowly, for Maman's sake. Let her really warm to the idea..." I felt terrible lying to Christine but I couldn't very well tell her he was going to try to give me a child at some point and then put a ring on my finger, only if we managed to be successful. It was not romantic at all to be married while three or fours months pregnant. Or to only be asked because you were. But I was still very much looking forward to our first attempt.

"I'm not sure when they will be here, I should have asked."

"My mother is going to hate Erik after today." I shook my head as we came to the kitchen. The black woman was stirring a large bowl of something.

"Mlle," she dropped her eyes when Christine entered and I felt Christine stiffen.

"Hello Molly, thank you so much for getting the sauce ready for me. This is Meghan Giry."

I waved my fingers at her and she glanced up only to drop her eyes again. "Mlle." She was very timid and quiet and just sort of followed Christine's directions. As we left with a tray of cookies, I looked back over my shoulder.

"She is odd." I determined. "She just obeys your every command."

"I try not to command her, am I too demanding?" Christine worried and I laughed.

"You practically helped her do everything you asked for help with." I shrugged lightly, "I just mean, isn't it strange to have people there to serve you like that?"

"It is, but if you marry Cameron you'll have to get used to that." She was right and the thought had me mulling over how our life would be. A house full of helpers. Never having to clean or cook. Just enjoy my time with my husband and my adorable children. I liked the thought very much and figured I could get used to having people serve and obey me. I would probably command them a lot more then Christine did.

We came back into the music room and Erik was sitting with mother and Nadir. Maman looked tense and she gave me her squinted, suspicious look.

"Meghan, you will happy to know that Comte Inninbalm is joining us this evening." She thought I was in on it and I put on my best shocked face.

"What? He's not spending Christmas with his grandmother? What a toad."

"She's coming too," Erik winked at me behind my mother's back, but she was quite unhappy looking.

"I would have thought he'd have some grand party to attend," I shrugged it off lightly and then snagged a cookie from Christine's tray. "Try a cookie, Maman, Christine made them herself." I only hoped my complete dismissal of Cameron shook Maman from my back.

Mother took a cookie and bit it carefully and then praised Christine's baking skills. I sighed inwardly. If my mother even got a whiff of what Cameron and I were planning she would lock me in my bedroom for the rest of my life. I ate Christine's yummy cookie and then took another while Erik spoke to Nadir about the grand opening night. He turned to Maman, asking if she thought there should be a party before or after the show, or at all and as she gave her opinion it seemed like Maman was relaxing.

Good. She would certainly be tense once Cameron arrived.

**Erik**

I tried to keep the conversation light and keep Antoinette involved. I did want to get along with her for Meghan's sake, but she made it hard to be nice when she sent me glaring looks while Nadir was occupied reaching for a cookie. That woman honestly _made_ me want to taunt her. She drove me to annoyance.

"Christine dear, when did you make these cookies?" I finally asked, to fill a silent moment.

"Yesterday," she almost bounced in joy. "Did you suspect? Did Nadir tell you?"

"What other Christmas secrets are you planning?" I knew there had to be more. She was constantly looking for a reason to leave the room and I had a feeling she was working in the kitchen.

"Christmas secrets?" She laughed happily and I smiled at her exuberance but then her lip jutted out in a pout. "I cannot hide anything from you, can I?" She was joking with me but I saw Antoinette stiffen slightly. I bit back a sigh. Infuriatingly complicated woman. Getting Cameron and Meghan together behind her back was going to be quite interesting. As if summoned by my thoughts the doorbell rang and I stood, glad to do something other than be judged harshly by Meg's uptight mother.

"I can greet them, Father." I kept Nadir from standing.

"I have never had a count in my home. I should greet him."

"Cameron isn't one for formal introductions. And I forgot to mention, I believe Clotilda is blind, but I could be mistaken."

"Mistaken about being blind?" Nadir laughed, "You're losing your touch, Erik." He smiled warmly at me and I couldn't see how Antoinette could dismiss that he and I were family.

"Ladies," I nodded in departure to the three of them, though my eyes centered on my woman. Every time I looked at her today, I remembered her love flushed cheeks in the morning light.

I quickly strode down the hall and Berou was just closing the door behind them.

"Cameron, Clotilda, I suppose a Merry Christmas is in order."

"Merry Christmas, Erik." Cameron shook my hand heartily and I bowed over Clotilda's.

"Monsieur Karan. What a lovely home? Did you build it yourself?" Her eyes sparkled with mirth and I vowed to ask Cameron outright about her sight the next time we were alone.

"Has the trap been sprung?" Cameron gave me a wink.

"Nadir let the cat out of the bag for us," I replied with an amused quirk to my mouth.

"What are you boys up to?" Clotilda mussed as I showed them down the hall.

"Just a bit of fun," I assured her. "Much like your home, we have a large music room where we have congregated. Though mine only has a piano." I felt a little bad pretending this is where I lived but I could never reveal the truth to anyone. They would think me strange and peculiar and I wished to avoid that as much as possible. My face was already peculiar enough.

I first introduced them both to my father. It was a proud moment for me to look at Nadir and call him my father and not have it known to be untrue, or have it disputed. Cameron shook his hand and said what a pleasure it is to finally meet him.

"I've enjoyed working with Erik so far, though I have a feeling him and I will come to heads at some point." Cameron raised his brow at me almost in challenge.

"Erik can be quite hard headed sometimes," Nadir was like a jovial version of himself.

Antoinette was more polite than I expected her to be, but it may have been because Tilly is just such a spark of mischievous light. She embraced Meghan and asked her seriously why she does not come to visit this lonely old woman more often. Meghan apologized and gave her mother a small petulant look. Christine kissed them both on the cheek and wished them a merry holiday and we all settled around the cookies.

"She sings and she bakes cookies." Tilly declared as she tried one. "It's no wonder you put a ring on her finger, Erik."

I found myself smiling at the lady. Life had dealt her blows but she found humor and light in almost everything. Her and Nadir began talking quite animatedly about Christine's singing and Cameron turned to me.

"Have you decided about the opening night celebration?"

"Not yet," I glanced at Antoinette and her lips pursed.

"The celebration you just asked me about?"

Cameron turned in her direction, "Yes Madame Giry. What do you think? You have far more experience in the business then we do."

I would never admit such a thing to her when I felt my musical skills far outweighed any experience she might have gleaned. But Cameron had no problem admitting he knew nothing about something, even if it was not true. It was a different approach to manipulation and he worked it like a charm.

Mme inclined her head and told him bluntly what she thought. A party before, no matter how tame could result in performers not ready to perform. Better to have the show and then a celebration after the stress of performing is done. Cameron agreed with her and thanked her and turned to me.

"That settles me." We were playing her. I scoffed.

"Because she says so? We have already agreed to have the principal performers greeting people in the grand escalier, or have you changed your mind about that as well?"

Cameron looked thoughtful, "But Mme Giry would know what could interrupt a good performance more than you and I. I trust her judgement on this, Erik."

"Ah, your first disagreement and we are all witness to it." Nadir piped up laughingly.

"We will speak of it later," I grumbled, pretending to be angry with Cameron. Mme Giry looked like she was preening. I could almost see the invisible bond tying her and Cameron as they joined forces upon me and it was working perfectly, until Meg offered her two cents.

"I like Erik's idea. Saying hello to the patrons wouldn't hurt _my_ performance and it would make not only the paying customers feel special, but those chosen for the job. I bet they do twice a better job performing after being so honored." She looked happy with herself and it was hard to look annoyed at her when I was supposed to be happy to have agreement on my side.

"I don't think it would hurt my performance either, as long as I had my warmup beforehand." Christine offered, putting her dainty hand on my knee in silent support.

This planned conversation with Antoinette had gone slightly sideways due to the girls offering their opinions. I raised a brow at Cameron. It was up to him to save this.

"I will think on it," he glanced at Christine and Meg in turn and then turned to Mme Giry. "What do you think of all these new operas being written? Should we attempt it ourselves? Is it too risky to perform something unknown?" He pulled her into a business conversation and she seemed very regal sitting there, giving her opinion. Lord knew she had enough opinions to give!

I glanced at the rest of those gathered, Nadir, Christine, Clotilda and Meghan. This was my first true Christmas, where I knew what it was to be thankful for your life, instead of wonder why you were here. Christine smiled at me and I smiled back. She was the reason for my existence.

**Christine**

The evening was fabulous. Everyone enjoyed my food and there was hardly any tension between Cameron and Mme Giry by the time we were eating. I had to sneak away a few times to check on dinner's progress and help Molly out with setting the table. I wanted the table to look spectacular when everyone came in, covered with food and brightly decorated.

Traditionally, the smorgasborg was for Christmas Eve but I wanted to share it with as many friends as possible. Molly had done a terrific job following my recipes and I told her to take some food and go enjoy the rest of the evening with her husband before we all settled in to eat.

Nadir was smiling at me and I realized I'd ordered his servant around like she was mine. "Is that alright? I don't mind cleaning up afterwards."

He chuckled and his emerald green eyes sparkled. "Christine, you are a gem."

I happily explained what each dish was from lutkfish to the Christmas ham to the sour cabbage. We ate and ate and ate until I leaned back in my chair and covered my belly with both hands.

"I have just enough room for dessert." I sighed happily and Erik patted his mouth with his napkin.

"There is still enough food here for two more dinners," he eyed the half full platters.

"I know what we'll be eating tomorrow," Nadir added helpfully.

"It was all delicious, Christine." Cameron complimented.

"I've never had such food," Clotilda commented.

"I really liked that dish," Meg pointed to the sweet and sour cabbage. "I've never tasted anything like it."

"The ham was lovely," Mme Giry added.

I beamed at all the praise and glanced at Erik. I did go to all this trouble partially for him. I wanted him to see what Christmas could be like. "What was your favorite?" I asked, biting my lip as he looked over the table.

"I think I liked it all," his lips twitched. "Except maybe the lutkfish. I think I need a few more tries before I acquire a taste for it."

I laughed and stood to serve the rice pudding. "That one is an acquired taste. Does everyone want some magical Christmas dessert?"

A chorus of answers came and I began scooping and serving as I explained about the pudding. "There is one solitary, magical almond hidden in the pudding. It will only allow itself to be put into the bowl of someone who will be married in the coming year. It can be quite surprising sometimes, foretelling a wedding that no one suspects. "

"And how accurate is this magical, Swedish, Christmas custom?" Nadir pushed around the pudding as he peered within. My lips pressed at how nervous he looked.

"Very," I laughed.

"I hope it's in mine then," Clotilda grinned before taking a bite. We all laughed at that and I thanked the Lord for such a wonderful evening and wonderful friends and the promise of a fabulous year.

**Erik**

I tried to watch everyone to see where the magic almond would end up. My bowl or Christine's bowl would make sense but wouldn't it be amusing if Cameron or Meghan or Antoinette found it. Christine was trying to watch everyone as well, her excitement easy to read on her darling expressive face. She had taken the time and effort to prepare, or at least organize and help prepare, this entire dinner. She taught us to craft those tree ornaments and she made the large straw goat that was sitting under the tree as well. My bride had many endearing domestic skills as well as theatrical and vocal skills and she was beautiful and gracious, giving, loving and mine.

All mine.

The bowls were almost all empty when Christine whined slightly, "No one got it?" I noticed Meghan studying her spoon and avoiding Christine's eye and surmised that someone had indeed found the almond but decided not to bring it up. I glanced at Antoinette and knew exactly why Meg would choose to keep it to herself. The poor girl was practically abused by her mother.

"No weddings for me," Clotilda sighed in disappointment and Christine and Cameron laughed.

"I will make us some tea as I tidy up. There are still a few treats to be had," Christine stood and lifted one of the trays into her arms.

"Meghan, help Christine," Antoinette ordered and Meg stood quickly and picked up some platters.

I felt bad just sitting there, when I was perfectly capable of helping, so I too, stood to help. We ferried trays back into the kitchen and Christine put some water on and Meg and I made more than a few trips back and forth as Christine put food away in the ice chest.

"What army were you planning to feed?" I teased her and she grinned, loving every second.

"Smorgasborg is meant to be overdone. It's Christmas tradition." Meg leaned on the counter and watched Christine work.

"The only Christmas tradition we've ever practiced is going to church," she was at ease and I leaned across from her and changed the subject.

"Did the rice pudding foretell your wedding?" she looked surprised and then laughed.

"How did you know?"

"You looked guilty when Christine asked," I replied smugly.

"You had the almond?" Christine's face lit up and she clapped her hands excitedly. Meg shushed her and glanced out to the hallway.

"Don't let Maman find out!" she hissed. "She's doing so well tonight. I don't want to stress her out."

"Do you think you will marry Cameron?" Christine whispered with a smile.

Meg shrugged indifferently but there was a smile playing with her lips. "Maybe..."

"I love when the almond works." Her and Meg were sharing a girly moment so I started helping with the food. "No, stop that," Christine turned and patted my hands from the dishes. "I will do it."

"I can help," I pinched her lightly and she jumped away with laughter.

"Erik," she scurried back to the dishes and her attention was focused on that for all of four seconds before she exclaimed loudly. "Oh, I wonder if they would prefer coffee?" She hurried out the door without a word and Meg turned to me.

"Is she always like this around you?"

"No." I watched the doorway wistfully, wishing to be in the presence of my domestic angel once more, and then sighed. "So," I flicked my eyes to Meghan. "What did Cameron have to say for himself?"

She looked frightened for a split second but then her usual sass appeared. "I believe that would be between Count Inninbalm and I." Her tone was airy, but there was mischief in her eyes. I deduced things were moving along in the right direction.

"Let me know if you need more help," I offered.

"I will," she glanced out to the hall and then hurried around the center table to be closer to me. "I wanted to ask you if you could help with Cameron's illness."

Meghan was very close and whispering quietly though I wasn't really sure why. "What do you mean?"

"Can he be cured? Do you know? Do you have anything he could take to rebuild his leg muscles?"

"I haven't really thought of it," but now I was. "Let me do some research."

Meg took my hands and gave me an adoring look, "Thank you so much, Erik. You are the best."

She turned and gave her attention to the dishes needing to be washed and Christine reappeared.

"Coffee and tea and goodies, coming up." The girls bustled around the kitchen as if it was their own and I watched it all. Meg left with a tray of assorted treats and I wasted no time. I grabbed Christine and scooped the curve of her jaw into one hand.

I paused to say something eloquent but instead I just kissed her. Hard, but sensually, and she melted against me, her hands trailing around my neck. She pulled back gently after a heady minute.

"I have work to do..." her voice trembled and I laughed softly.

"Just showing my appreciation for all you did tonight." I framed her face in my hands and smiled for her. "I did not think it was possible to love you more."

Her lashes fluttered and her lips pressed to mine for another soft, soul searching kiss and Meg reappeared. "So that's what was keeping you?" her arms crossed in disapproval and I pulled Christine to me.

"This is between Christine and I," I arched my brow at her.

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes. "Like I want to get in the middle."

Christine giggled and I found my own lips quirking at the image of Meg sandwiched between us. "Perhaps you should go back to the dining room and make sure no one else wanders this way."

"While you have your way with Christine in the kitchen?" the girls were both laughing and I found my own mirth was close behind.

"My house, my rules."

"You are too much, Erik." Meg shook her head at me and Christine wiggled away to see to the boiling water.

"Now look what you've done?" I grinned at Meghan while gesturing to my empty arms and the puttering Christine.

Meg stuck out her tongue while Christine laughed and I heard my own laughter echo around the kitchen. I was stuffed with food, surrounded by friends and felt giddy with happiness. This was shaping up to be the best day of my life.


	58. Complications

**Christine**

Everyone was looking forward to the opening night of Hannibal in two days, and therefore, rehearsals were going marvelously. We were trying to tighten everything up for opening night and everyone was giving all they had to their performances. I was standing off to the side, waiting for my cue. There was roughly ten minutes before I had to be back on stage.

I felt someone behind me and glanced, unconcerned, until I saw it was Joseph Buquet. The man made me quite uncomfortable.

"Hello Angel," he whispered and that hungry look of his sent a shiver down my spine. I felt as if I was stammering but I said hello and reminded him that my name was Christine. It bothered me very much that he would call me a pet name that Erik used.

"Of course...Christine..." hearing my name on his lips was not much better and I schooled my face to not grimace as he dropped to his knees, supplicating before me. "I am your servant."

I was completely taken aback and stared dumbly at his bowed head for a moment. A few chorus members saw the exchange and tittered to themselves while I rolled my eyes.

"Let me serve you," he reached for my hand and I scrambled back almost right onto the stage, which would have stopped rehearsal, and kept me in his company for longer. If I waited only a few more minutes I would be needed on stage and could get away from Joseph.

"I don't need a servant." A smile wobbled onto my face as he looked up.

"Let me serve you," he repeated and I wanted to shoo the dirty man away, but an idea formed.

"Could you fetch me a glass of water? I am quite parched." I knew for a fact that the jug we kept on the side of the stage was empty so he would have to go down the hall to the kitchen to get some more. It would keep him away from me long enough for the dancers to finish their dance and then I would be onstage.

"Water?" A smile spread his thin lips to reveal those darkened teeth and then he ran away to do my bidding. I sighed in relief at his retreating figure. A quick glance at the dancers showed that they had only roughly four minutes of music left. I was very proud of myself for not offending anyone and in the process getting a leering man away from me. The dancers had less than a minute left when he rushed back to my side.

"Water for the parched flower," he held out a glass, and I had to take it since I asked for it. "You should sit over here," he gestured to an empty chair in the corner, and I wanted to ask him why he wasn't at some scenery post he had to man.

"I will be needed soon," I waved at the stage, urging the musicians to play a tiny bit faster, as I absently drank some of the water. I sucked on my tongue briefly at the stale taste of the water and wondered where he'd procured the glass.

"You might need to sit and rest," he stepped closer and tried to hold my arm but M. Reyer saved me.

"Mlle Daae?" I shoved the glass back at Joseph and shifted away from his grubby hands.

"Thank you M. Buquet. I must go."

I missed my exact cue and M. Reyer gave me a stern look and told me to be ready next time. He counted me in and I began my solo that eventually blends into a duet and then a piece with the whole chorus. As I sang, my mouth felt dry, which struck me oddly since I just had water. By the time Piangi joined me onstage, there were spots dancing in front of my eyes and I slumped into him, my head fuzzy and my vision dancing.

Piangi easily held me up. "Mlle? Christine?" I could hear him and feel his fat fingers holding my chin, but it did not feel like my face. I couldn't even answer him. There was silence echoing through my ears...

I must have fainted because I came to, lying in a chair in the audience section with Meg leaning over me and Cameron across from me and the rest of the cast gathered with wide eyes.

"Christine?" Meg held my hand and then my cheek with gentle concern. "Can you hear me?"

"Mmm hmm..." I felt confused and Mme Giry even looked concerned for me as she hovered behind Meghan. What happened?

"You fainted," Meg answered my unasked question with worry painting her features. "Are you alright?"

I tried to sit up and found I could, "I think so..." giggles and mutterings erupted in the gathered cast and Mme Giry spun to order them all away. Through the crowd, Carlotta pushed forward.

"You work too hard," Carlotta's brash voice cut over the general noise and she turned to Cameron. "Perhaps I should continue today's rehearsal...if you all agree," she added like an afterthought.

I wanted to jump up and say no but I wasn't entirely sure I wouldn't just faint again. My head was extremely light feeling, as if I'd gone days without eating and it was only now catching up to me.

"Mlle Daae?" Cameron came closer, right beside Meg. "Do you feel well enough to continue?" His warm chocolate eyes searched my face and I smiled tentatively.

"I still feel faint, maybe Carlotta should..."

"Wonderful!" She interrupted loudly and flounced away through the straggling crowd to the stage stairs. She climbed them faster then I thought possible, made her way to center stage, and then set her hands on her ample hips and fixed everyone with a nasty glare. "Are we rehearsing or lazing about?"

People scrambled and Meg growled, "If I didn't know better, I'd say she planned this." Her blue eyes sought mine lovingly and she tucked some hair behind my ear. "Wave at me if you need anything at all."

"I'll take care of her, Meghan," Cameron assured her and Meg gave him a saucy look.

"Who's going to take care of you, Comte?" She whispered with a flirty smile and then darted away to climb the stairs herself. Cameron's dark eyes followed her until she disappeared into the side of the stage, and I put my curiosity, over them, out of my head for now.

"I'm sorry Cameron," I said softly, using his Christian name now that we were alone.

"Do you still feel faint?" his brow was furrowed in concern. "Erik is going to have a fit," he sighed as Carlotta started singing.

I very briefly thought of not telling Erik, but I remembered how upset it made him last time. "Let me tell him," I offered.

"Would you?" he laughed lightly, "I don't particularly feel like getting my ear chewed off."

I laughed with him and watched Carlotta smugly strut across the stage. Meg's words came back to me, 'I'd say she planned this.' I looked in the wings for a glimpse of Joseph and wondered if I'd stepped right into their plans. The strange tasting water...

I had to tell Erik.

So, the first opportunity I had, I did. I pulled him to his couch to sit down after we entered his home that night. He'd been very quiet on the walk down and his face was lined with concern.

"I need to tell you something," I took his hands for fortification and he squeezed mine.

"Meghan has told me," his beautiful voice soothed me.

"What?" How did she know about Joseph and Carlotta, and also, "When did you see Meg?" I thought he always came straight to me when he was done working for the day.

"She was in the office with Cameron when I came for our meeting."

"Oh," my mind wandered to her and Cameron alone in the office but I shook myself. "So, she told you about Joseph Buquet?" I still wondered how she could know.

Erik's brow came down, "The scene shifter? What about him?" I wondered if the drug was still affecting me because I was wholly confused.

"What _did_ Meg tell you?" The most extraordinary softening of his face occured and he popped the white mask off his face and set it down.

"That you are with child."

"WHAT?"

"The whole cast is whispering about it. That is why you fainted, is it not?" His fingers skimmed my cheek and I knew this was one of the reasons I hated gossip. Everything always got mixed around and upside down. I started shaking my head.

"I think I was drugged." There was complete silence before he snapped one word out.

"_What_?"

"I asked M. Buquet for some water..." I began.

"You asked him for water..." Erik was growling already and I rushed to finish.

"He was very eager to do something for me...kneeling and groveling at my feet..."

"So, you asked him for water..."

"It was all I could think of..."

"And then you fainted."

"And Carlotta jumped up to take my place." Now Erik didn't look so mad as he did cold and calculating.

"Like she'd planned the whole thing..." He was absently stroking my hand with that hard look in his eye, and I tried to peel his attention away.

"Were you happier to think I was pregnant?" his features softened again, and his dark lashes fluttered over those piercing eyes.

"Happier?" he was smiling. "A little shocked, but definitely happier to think you were carrying my child," he murmured as he ran his hand over my stomach.

"But I don't think I am..."

"Even better," a naughty smile curved over his mouth, and he pushed me down into the soft cushions. He kissed me passionately and it was impossible to not respond with my own passion. We broke apart with a gasp and he laughed that sexy laugh that rolled through my empty stomach. "I still have you all to myself," he breathed before covering my mouth, my body, my heart and my soul with his love.

**Erik**

I laid Christine in my bed and pulled the covers over her. "Aren't you joining me?" she smiled lazily, basking in the afterglow of our love.

"I wish I could, pet, but I have some work to do." I was slightly ashamed that as soon as I'd felt Christine was threatened at all, I'd forced myself on her, under some strange notion that making love to her could keep her safe. "I'll be in my laboratory if you need me." I started leaving my room and heard her soft reply.

"I will always need you, lover..."

I smiled as I picked up our discarded clothing from the living area. I was her lover and she, mine. She hadn't seemed to mind that I undressed her in the living room and tore off my own clothes to sit on the couch naked and have her straddle me. I entirely enjoyed the fact that my innocent rosebud was a passionate woman, bursting into bloom, but my post coital smile faded as I recalled why she'd pulled me to the couch in the first place.

Not pregnant. Drugged.

Some noxious combination of chemicals had been ingested by my angel. What if the fool had killed her unwittingly? I was growling in anger and I wished the stage hand was in front of me so I could strangle him just enough to make him wet himself. With Carlotta possibly involved, now Cameron would have to kick her ass onto the street. Of course, noble Cameron would say there was no evidence and only speculation.

I shoved aside some junk on my work table, feeling the need to break something, and braced my hands on the edge. I could not sit back and do nothing. Christine had to be safe and protected. Without her, I was nothing. I had to do something.

I began pacing around the table, my brow furrowed in thought. If I confronted Carlotta, things would certainly turn ugly. I could scare Buquet or just fire him, then Carlotta would not have a co-hort in her dastardly plans. What exactly were her plans? All she'd managed today was to take over rehearsal and cause ear damage.

I pondered what she could be up to. Was she planning to drug Christine opening night?

My fists curled into deadly weapons. If anyone even touched Christine...

I let out a noisy breath and began massaging my temples. I would have to do some investigative sneaking about and find out what exactly was going on under my nose.

The next day I let Christine think I headed off and then hid by the stage to be a fly on the wall. I could see Cameron watching, mostly Meghan, and Christine and Piangi warming up and Carlotta speaking to that vermin Buquet. I tried to get closer, but she was finished speaking, and he was scampering off by the time I maneuvered myself closer.

I waited in the shadows, Christine's dark angel, waiting for things to unfold. They were going through a few of yesterdays sticking points and everyone was onstage listening to M. Reyer and Mme Giry. I realized we really needed a stage manager, someone who could tell each cast member where they came in from and where they should be standing at every minute. M. Reyer took care of the singers, and Mme Giry the dancers, but we needed one more person who could do both. One more person who could see the big picture.

I was listening to the instructions being given and heard a light russle behind me. Buquet was placing a jug of water on a stand and removing the one that already stood there. I pounced.

I put one hand on the jug so it wouldn't crash to the ground and one hand on his throat to hold him against the wall.

"Do you really think that will work twice?" I hissed with bared teeth and his eyes widened.

"Monsieur..." he looked damned scared and I thought he was trying to remember my name but, "Monsieur Phantom!"

His free hand was scrambling at his waist, and I saw the tell tale glint of metal and realized he had a knife. I grabbed his weapon hand and drove my forehead against his. His head hit the wall behind him and his body slumped down to the floor. I dumped the contents of both jugs over him.

Everyone was still in their meeting, so I left him there and went to watch rehearsal from another of my posts.

That probably was not the best way to deal with things, but time was of the essence, and the damn rat had called me Phantom. I touched the hard white mask on my face. I'd been planning to go to work, or at least pretending to go, and I never bothered with my rubber mask unless I was going to be seen by the public. How good were his eyes? Was he aware I was the one who bought the Garnier? That I was the man engaged to Diva Daae? Would he share his knowledge with Carlotta, or with anyone else?

Damn. I suddenly wished I could just kill him and be done with this.

**Meg**

When Buquet was discovered, soaking wet and unconscious at the side of the stage everyone flew into a frenzy.

"C'est le Phantom!" Violet and Marjorie giggled and trembled, and I watched some people try to rouse him. Was it Erik? I looked for Christine and she looked pale standing next to, the always flushed, Piangi. I knew she was pregnant so it was a good reason to be pale, but maybe she was also worried that Erik had done this. I sidled over to her and gave her a hug.

"How do you feel today?" I searched her face for signs of fatigue.

"Fine," she was watching the commotion with quiet interest. "Just to let you know, what you told Erik is not true. Something else happened yesterday." Her eyes flicked to mine, trying to discern if I would follow along. Piangi was standing beside her and she obviously did not want to come right out and say what she was trying to say. "I drank tainted water from the pig." I always called Buquet a pig and I put her puzzle together.

"So, is this retribution?" I jerked my thumb at the scene unfolding.

"I don't know..." Christine was wringing her hands together and I glanced out at Cameron. Him and mother were speaking and I started frowning in his direction. Maman laughed and put her hand to her chest and my mouth almost dropped open. As she turned away, Cameron caught my eye and winked at me.

"Oh Meg darling," Piangi inclined his head. "I believe the count is flirting with you."

My stupid cheeks flushed with heat. "Looks more like he's flirting with Maman to me."

Christine giggled lightly and took my hand, whispering, "He was rather obvious just now."

"No one was paying any attention to him, that's all. Look at everyone gathered around Buquet," I tried to pull their attention away from Cameron and his antics.

Piangi sniffed with disdain and turned away to his assistant Thomas, and after a silent moment Christine whispered only for my ears, "It must have been him."

**Christine**

Rehearsal seemed to float around me. I felt like someone was watching me and I knew it had to be Erik. He'd said goodbye this morning just like every other, but who else would have dumped two jugs of water over an unconcious scene shifter. All of the dancers were whispering about Le Phantom and I felt more strongly today, then ever before, that he actually was some strange masked phantom, here to guard me and guide me. Today he felt like an apparition, a cruel trick of my grieving mind, a fantasy I'd indulged myself in.

I touched my engagement ring for the hundredth time to feel the solid metal. A man gave this to me, not a ghost. He exists. He was just seeking revenge for you, seeing you were safe, eliminating any threat. What did it matter if no one ever saw him and everyone was frightened of him?

I veered away from people at the end of rehearsal. The only person I wanted to talk to was Erik. I needed to hold him tight and then find out how it happened. I knew he wouldn't have just attacked Buquet for no reason. Was the man trying to poison me again? That had to be why the water was all over him. But why did Erik lie and say he was leaving? Why not just tell me he would watch rehearsal today?

"Christine! Wait!" Meg yelled from across the theater. I whipped around and she ran to meet me. "Cameron needs to see you," she took my hand and began pulling me towards the hall.

"I want to wait for Erik," I pulled back slightly, trying to free my arm, and she tugged me along roughly.

"It will only take a few minutes."

"Meghan..." my tone was quite exasperated and annoyed and she copied it perfectly.

"Christine..."

I sighed and allowed myself to be dragged down the hall and into the office, without even a knock.

"Sit," Meg gestured at the chair in front of Cameron's desk and he smiled at me as Meg hopped up fluidly to sit on the desk. His eyes flicked to Meg's back and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It was nice to see I wasn't the only person who had to put up with Meg and her extravagant ways. "He wants to know about Le Phantom and I told him you could explain it best." She was studying the fingernails of one hand, avoiding my eye, and I had to meet Cameron's.

"What has she told you?" I asked tentatively, not feeling comfortable at all with this situation. What would Erik want me to tell him?

"Nothing," he sighed in exasperation. "She is very..." his eyes assessed her back, "Stubborn."

Meg's lips were curving in a smile, as she intently ignored Cameron. I fought back a smile of my own and took a deep breath to deal with this matter. "The managers who owned the opera before you were sort of 'haunted' into running it better."

Cameron looked ready to laugh or frown. "I beg your pardon?"

"Erik would leave them mysterious notes..."

"Wait a minute, our Erik?" he flicked his hand around to the three of us and I nodded slowly.

"He would make reccommendations as to the running of the theater and the managers listened."

Now Cameron was frowning, "So, that is why people believe there is a phantom haunting them?"

Meg shifted on the desk and looked over her shoulder at Cameron. "It's just the silly dancers who believe in the phantom. You know we all have _wild_ imaginations."

Cameron's eyes drank in Meg's flirty position and I felt slightly uncomfortable. Now I knew how Meghan felt around Erik and I. I would try to respect her wishes a whole lot more now, and try to keep my hands to myself if she was around. They weren't even touching each other and I was uncomfortable.

Cameron cleared his throat roughly. "So, are the silly dancers correct? Did le Phantom attack Buquet? Why would Erik do that..."

The door opened and in walked the man in question. "Why would I what?" Erik asked smoothly.

"Attack Buquet?" Cameron sat back and regarded Erik with new interest.

He stopped at my side, "Because he was trying to drug Christine." Erik knelt beside me and picked up my hand, kissing my fingers softly, before his piercing eyes lifted to mine. He was angry, agitated, and sad. I realized I felt the exact same way because of his actions. "I'm sorry I did not go to work," he spoke gently, "I needed the element of surprise to catch him in the act."

"What are you talking about?" Cameron sounded angry. "Someone drugged Christine yesterday? That's why she fainted?"

Erik stood quickly, stepping slightly ahead of me. "You put that together rather quickly."

Cameron huffed noisily, "Not everyone is your enemy, Erik. Remember that," his eyes bored into Erik. "I do not like to repeat myself over and over."

"Then, _my friend_, we have to do something about Carlotta and Buquet."

"Carlotta?" Cameron's eyes widened. "She had something to do with this?"

"I am sure of it."

"Do you have proof?"

Erik scoffed, "You were there when she jumped up and took Christine's position. Do you honestly need more proof than that?"

"Yes, Erik. That is no proof at all. She is the understudy. It's her job to jump up and replace Christine. And Buquet? What did he do to deserve today's treatment? Is this how you will handle issues with the staff? As a violent, lurking Phantom?" Erik tensed but Meg hopped off the desk and whirled to stand in front of Erik facing Cameron.

"Don't talk to Erik that way!"

"Meghan, please," both the men chimed together, and I saw Erik touch her gently on the shoulder and Cameron's face softened, but she did not soften at all.

"He was protecting Christine. If he used violence then he was obviously given violence first, and who exactly cares about Buquet? He's a dirty, smelly, pig of a man!"

"So he deserves this sort of treatment from his employer?" Cameron started arguing with her too, and though Cameron was preaching non violence, I couldn't help but be in agreement with Erik and Meg.

"Maybe not, but I repeat, who exactly cares? Who's plans were ruined today? If Carlotta comes and makes a stink about it, then we'll know they're in this together."

Everyone stopped. "You are very devious, Meghan." Erik spoke with pride, and she turned and flashed him a smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Thanks."

"And very correct," Cameron pulled our attention back to him. "Can we, at least, all agree that we need more proof before we can take any further actions?"

Grumbles emitted from both of those in front of me. "La Vache may not want to tip her hand for a lowly scene shifter, but if the level of violence towards Christine increases..."

Cameron cut off Erik's words. "You increased the level of violence yourself!"

"That was necessary..." Erik growled and I stood to put an end to all of this.

"Erik, Cameron, please," I fixed them both with a look and Meg grinned at me. She was probably loving every second. "This is all my fault. I am too trusting. From now on I will be on guard. Nothing will happen to me." I met Erik's eyes, willing him to believe me. He was quite angry, but he was scared too. He probably wanted to run away from here with me and never look back.

"I'll be watching too," Meg added helpfully while rubbing her hands together. "If I see anything suspicious, I'm squealing like a sow." She laughed jovially and both the men began to relax.

"I'm sorry for accusing you," Erik began and Cameron waved his hand.

"You seem to not want to trust anyone where Christine is concerned, and yet she trusts everyone around her." Cameron smiled tiredly. "You should have told me about the phantom."

Erik nodded, "One of my less redeeming moments." Him and Cameron shared a look and then Erik pulled me close and held me tight. "Will you go have some dinner with Meghan, I need to talk business with my partner."

"Send the women away so the men can confer? Let's go, Meg." I dragged Meghan out the door so we could have a conference of our own.

**Erik**

Christine and Meg left and I sighed heartily. Both of those girls loved me dearly, and today, I hated that they did. I'd acted rashly and violently toward another person and felt no remorse what-so-ever. And Meg had gallantly stood up for me when I felt I deserved nothing of the sort. I had even imagined just killing the man to make my life easier. Today I definitely did not deserve the love of those sweet girls. But that would not change the fact that I had it.

I slumped into the chair across from Cameron.

"Well?" his brows arched upwards, asking me for claification.

"The man was switching the jugs of water and I caught him. He pulled a knife on me and I acted quickly. Is it my fault he cannot take a light knock to the head? Should I have allowed him to slice me open?"

Cameron rolled his eyes, "Sarcasm is unnecessary, Erik. I would prefer that no one was hurt, but now that you've explained, I feel better." He fixed me in his dark brown gaze. "The talk of this phantom fellow does not sit well with me. Makes me wonder if I know you at all."

I waved my hand in irritation, "I've never done anything to inflame the phantom's infamy. You were beside me when that backdrop fell on Carlotta and I somehow was blamed for it still. The managers kept all the notes I sent, if you care to read them." I waved towards the filing cabinet where I'd found all of my infamous transcriptions.

"Why would one of our workers pull a knife on you? Did he not recognize you?" Cameron was pondering this and I grimaced.

"He called me the phantom," I mumbled unpleasantly, shifting the white mask with one hand.

"I beg your pardon?" Cameron asked politely, not having heard my grumbles.

"He called me the phantom," I said clearly with annoyance in my tone.

"I see," Cameron's eyes narrowed, "And he obviously fears you."

I made a feeble gesture, unsure of what to say. The cast and crew had needed no help from me to inflame my legend. Every mishap and misstep and out of place sound was the work of the phantom. Though I'm sure the previous managers telling everyone that they had gotten advice from the phantom did not help. Nor did their claim that I would reign down holy terror upon them all if they did not perform well.

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Things were getting complicated and I hate complications.

"Cameron, I assure you, I have never done anything..." he laughed and I looked up with surprise.

"Except grimace at everyone you meet. Let's face it, Erik. You are not really the friendliest person. I can see why you would never have bought this place on your own. But," he lifted one finger. "Having purchased it with me, I require that you conduct yourself in, at the very least, a businesslike manner. Everyone should look up to you, not be frightened."

I felt like he was lecturing me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I covered the white mask. "People get frightened just looking at this thing." My tone was angry and a little justified. "The man was going to knife me, and I get lectured about conduct."

Cameron looked grim, "We will get to the bottom of this, Erik. I will not allow harm to come to Christine or to you." He meant his pledge and I nodded silently. "And perhaps if you stuck to the other mask..."

"That's the problem with it," I grumbled and changed the subject. "So tell me, is it good business practice to have a dancer sitting on your desk during meetings?"

Cameron's lip quirked to one side. "Certainly good for business. She makes a nice desk ornament...should pull in more patrons..."

I laughed at his unwillingness to share anything about Meghan. The last two times I'd come into his office she was with him, though neither one of them looked very guilty or offered any reason for their being together, so maybe they were only talking and getting to know one another.

"Speaking of dancers, will we try to replace Julie or not? Do you think we need more dancers?"

We spoke of business for a bit and I told him my idea for a stage manager. He wondered if Piangi's assistant would take the job, since he is here every day and probably has seen the entire opera more times then any one person should have to endure.

"I will ask him and Piangi tomorrow. I wouldn't want this position to interfere with whatever he does for Piangi." Cameron made a few notes in his book and then sat back with a sigh. "This is much more work then I imagined it would be."

"I apologize for that," I did feel bad that he was tiring himself out. "Once my house is done, I will be able to help much more here."

"That's good," Cameron yawned hugely. "Traveling back and forth everyday is a little much. For the amount of time I spend here I might as well bring in a bed to sleep on too."

"We can work out a schedule once I have more free time."

"Don't you have employees who could be building your house for you?"

I scoffed, "You obviously don't know me very well yet." Cameron laughed and I was glad that today's rash actions and assumptions had no negative effect on our growing friendship. "No one would be able to build it to my standards. Even I won't be able to match the standards I want." He laughed harder and then wiped at his eyes.

"Your perfectionism shows in Christine's training. Even today she was quite distracted but the voice she produces..." Cameron smiled. "You were right about her being a star."

"Of course I was," I felt smug, but his offhand comment about her being distracted made me realize that I probably hurt her today with my subterfuge. Maybe she would let me make it up to her in a creative manner...

**Christine**

Meg and I were curled up on my bed, deep in conference.

"They will figured it out, they are both so smart, Chris, you shouldn't worry."

"But men don't always think rationally, especially Erik." I was doing what I do what best, worry and fret.

"Erik will save the day, he always does," Meg was petting my shoulder and I leaned on her, looking for comfort.

"I can't believe Carlotta would go so far."

"She's a witch, I told you."

"Why can't everyone be nice to each other?"

"It's humanly impossible for her. Don't think about it anymore."

"My undershirt is itchy," I complained and Meg laughed.

"Take it off," she suggested. I sat forward to get her to untie me. "Christine..." her hands hesitated on the back of my dress and I glanced at her. "I have to tell you something." Her face was grave, and my mind conjured many wild things she was about to reveal, as she started on my dress, but I never imagined the words coming from her mouth. She explained to me about Cameron's county and the agreement they struck and his plan to make an heir, with her.

"But you said he loved you?" it was all I could think of as my image of the ever polite and gentlemanly Cameron was tainted with this wicked proposal of his.

"He said that too, only I don't know how much to believe him," her eyes stared at a piece of the wall, lost in thought, as I shimmied out of my dress.

"He wouldn't lie about it, do you think?" I'd always found Cameron very open, honest, and just plain wonderful.

"He's a charmer, Christine," she rolled her eyes like I was naive. "Never believe what they say."

"But you still want to marry him?" I tossed my itchy undershirt on the bed and pulled one from the drawer to slip on.

"He's a handsome, funny, rich charmer," she was smiling at me as my head came out the neck hole. "Do you have any other pretty undergarments that you may not want or need?"

A wicked smile spread my lips. "You want nicer undergarments? What for exactly?"

Meg chuckled and fluttered her lashes at me. "If I'm to be seen in them, I would prefer they be nice."

I hopped onto the bed in just my underclothes, to take her hands in mine. "You will do it then? You will lay with him without a pledge?"

Meg snorted, "I laid with Albert, and his only pledge to me was that he would show me what I'd been missing, and I'm not sure I found anything at all."

I tried not to let myself laugh, but Meg was always so funny, it was hard to resist. I did want her to see the seriousness of her actions. "You're supposed to save yourself for the man who will be your husband."

"I know," she picked up the itchy, lace undershirt and turned it over in her hands. "I want Cameron to be my husband, and if this is the only way he'll have me..."

"Oh Meg," I felt sorry for her and it was my turn to hug her and offer comfort.

"It's alright, Christine, I don't mind that he's asked for this. What if he can't even, you know, get hard..."

I pushed away from her, "MEG! I don't want to be thinking about Cameron that way, especially while dressed in only my underwear." I started pulling on one of my simple dresses as she giggled.

"You are so adorable sometimes."

"Stop making fun of me," I ordered, while giggling with her, and she stood to paw through my undergarments. "Take whatever you want, I have more..." I almost said downstairs, but stopped myself and just stayed silent.

"Did Erik buy all of this for you? You did not come here with all these fancy things."

"You've seen the way he dresses," I flicked my hand and caught sight of myself in the full length mirror. Even the simple dress was cut exquisitely and tailored perfectly, probably by Monsieur Benoit himself. I looked very much like a proper lady. "He would never allow himself to be better dressed than his lady."

"Still, all these clothes..." she held up a few different chemises and then came to stand with me in front of the mirror, holding the itchy lace undershirt up. "You don't mind if I take some pretty under things?"

"Not at all," I smiled at her reflection. "As long as you make good use of them," I gave her a cheeky grin.

"Oh, I will," she was looking into her reflection seriously and my grin faded. Just the thought of Cameron could make my silly, exuberant sister very serious. I should take that as a good sign, but I didn't like how he was planning to use Meg. But what could I do about it? Would I do anything even if I could? How could I ever bring up such a delicate discussion...

My cheeks began to fill with colour and I turned away to tidy up my drawers. It was none of my business. He and Meghan would figure things out. I only could hope and pray that they figured everything out before Meghan had her heart broken.


	59. Surprises

_**Author's note: Happy summer to all my lovely readers! Happy Saturday too! Please let me know how much you enjoy this next installment. You have no idea what a review can do. For example...**_

_**This chapter was supposed to open with , "Opening night..." and skip what Erik did to make up his bad behavior to Christine, but a single review, made me write the whole scene out. Thank you my lovely reviewer, you know who you are. You should really let me know how you like the reward for your comment. *evil authoress grin***_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Erik**

"Why would you pretend to leave?" Christine's arms were crossed as she grilled me about the episode with Buquet.

"If I stayed openly, they may not have tried anything." I tried to make her see my way had merit.

"You could have told me, Erik. I know how to keep a secret." I should have known it would hurt her. She felt I didn't trust her now. I trailed my hands down her arms and pulled her towards me.

"I'm sorry, pet, you are right. I should have revealed my plans to you." She squinted at me for a moment.

"Why do I feel like that was too easy?"

"I do not want to fight with you, darling." I lifted her chin slightly so she could see how serious I was. "But you have every right to continue being upset with me. I will leave, if you like?" I was quite certain she would say no to that.

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to trust me." She grabbed my shirtfront, her golden eyes pleading, "How can you not trust me?"

"My love, do not think that! Of course I trust you." I tried to hold her but she huffed away from me and fixed me with a petulant look.

"It does not seem like it," she was pouting now, which meant I was finally winning. I tried to give her my best pathetic expression.

"I've been alone for so long, relying on only myself. Remind me that I'm not alone anymore." Her eyes softened and they filled with love.

"Erik..." she tried to interject, but I barreled on, hoping to put an end to this argument now that she had softened.

"You are so precious to me, sometimes I feel, if I told you everything in my head, you could never love me the way you do now."

"Erik..." now she sounded exasperated and I kept on.

"But then I tell myself, that is ridiculous and you will always love me. Of course, there is always the possibility that you may not like me, or my actions, from time to time, and I suppose right now is one of those times." I looked down at my feet wondering if it was evil of me to manipulate her heart into forgiving me quickly. "I wanted to celebrate with you tonight since tomorrow will be shared with everyone, but I suppose it does not matter..."

"How are we celebrating?" She threw her arms around me and I smiled tentatively.

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

"I forgave you even before I brought it up, silly."

My eyebrow arched, "You are a very good actress."

"Isn't that partially the reason I'm the lead," she fluttered her lashes and I wasn't sure how I felt about her manipulating me with her feminine wiles. I narrowed my eyes at her as she smiled.

"You've been spending too much time with Meghan." I determined and she crossed her arms in a pout.

"Because you are always away, busy with this and that." This and that was her wedding present and house but I wanted to stop the fighting, not escalate anything.

"That's why," I stepped forward and took her defensive frame in my embrace, "I wanted to spend tonight with you." Our faces were so close that I could not resist rubbing her nose with mine, as she often did to me. Her hands uncurled and spread out on my chest.

"What did you have planned?" she breathed out as she mimicked my movement and rubbed our noses together.

"I will show you."

We left her room and started through the tunnels. As the stairs to the roof became our path, Christine giggled.

"When was the last time we were on the rooftops?" The question was a wistful sigh and I didn't think it needed an answer. Our footfalls echoed in the dark tunneled staircase. I should have brought a lantern with us, but my eyes could see just fine in the gloom, and I did pull everything together rather quickly. It was difficult to remember absolutely everything.

As we stepped out into the moonlight I took Christine in my arms and kissed her. She kissed me back with all of her luscious energy and I knew I was forgiven.

"I love the air at night," Christine inhaled and took my hand in hers.

"Tonight we are celebrating your success." I led her to the covered area where I'd left us some surprises.

"Before I've even had it?" She laughed joyously as she saw the basket sitting on the bench. "You brought wine?"

"To help keep us warm," I explained, though I was having very naughty thoughts about its usage.

"Let's open it then." She shivered briefly, even though she had her jacket and cloak on.

"Is it too cold?" The disappointment rang in my voice. How stupid of me! I may not feel it was cold, but my tender angel would. "We can go down below."

"Let's do what you planned, Erik." She pulled the wine from its resting place and handed it to me. "I'll let you know if I get too cold."

I opened the wine and poured us a healthy tot each. Nadir's fortified wine was good and for the same reasons, bad. But it should keep us a little warmer. I watched Christine taste the wine and then lick her lips.

"Mmm, I think I like wine." She twirled the glass slowly as I became engrossed in watching her. Seeing her here, where we first met, was like tying our beginning with our present. This was why I wanted to bring her here tonight, to celebrate the meshing of our lives, from a few chance encounters, but it was cold and she should be kept warm. Was I trying to get her sick right before her debut?

"We should not linger," I decided and took a drink, as Christine lowered her glass.

"You brought me up here to turn around and go back down?" Her brow was raised in her adorable manner and I held up my glass, defeated.

"No, love. I brought you here to tell you how much I love you. How the sight of you touched me right from that very first moment we bumped into each other, and you will be stupendous tomorrow."

Her glass chimed against mine and as we drank I saw something from the corner of my eye. I took the glass from her hand and set it down.

"Look up," I whispered and pulled her out into the open. Snowflakes danced in the air, falling and twirling like ballerinas in their own production.

"Oh," she turned in my arms, cuddling her back into me as she gazed up into the snow filled sky.

"Would you believe me if I said I planned this?" I was joking but Christine looked over her shoulder at me in surprise.

"Oh you," she shoved me playfully but snuggled right back where she belonged. "If it wasn't so cold, I would stay out here all night to watch this."

"If it wasn't cold, it would not be snowing." I said practically.

"Cold enough to snow, isn't that cold."

"You would get covered with snow, and then you would be cold." I teased and nibbled at her neck lightly.

"You would keep me warm," she murmured as she slithered around and pressed a warm kiss upon my cold lips.

**Christine**

The snow filled sky was like magic. Everything with Erik was magic. It was cold, but not piercingly cold like it could be. The snow seemed to make the evening lighter and softer and maybe it was the wine, but I didn't feel any chill at all. The bottle was still half full, so I couldn't be drunk. Or maybe it was half empty and I was drunk. I mentally shrugged my shoulders and snuggled into Erik.

We were sitting on the bench, where I sat so many nights, as he spoke to me in his stern, beautiful, instructor's tone. Where I first fell in love with my Maestro. I was using him as my lounge chair now, and reached back to rub his smooth cheek with my palm, like I'd wanted to do so many times up here.

"Your hands are not even cold," he laced our fingers together and I wiggled happily.

"I told you I wasn't cold."

"Hmmm," he kissed my fingers and his other hand traveled down my side to rest suggestively on my hip. "I wanted a chance to make you warmer," he growled lightly into my ear and I shivered in jest.

"I'm suddenly chilled to the bone," I giggled and Erik laughed with me.

"Such a quick temperature change." He pretended to worriedly check my forehead and then my neck. His hands suddenly lifted me to sit on his lap. "It is my duty to warm you thoroughly." His eyes were full of mischief as his lips hungrily took mine. I tossed my arms about his neck, more than willing to kiss him.

Our passions merged and my head felt dizzy, but it only made me clutch to Erik tighter. His tongue danced in and out of my mouth, making me yearn for more, for something harder. I envisioned him laying me on this very bench and pushing up my skirts. My naughty thoughts urged me onward and I ran one of my hands down his chest to his hard cock, trapped in his pants.

He broke away from my mouth, those soul piercing eyes taking in and assessing every decision in my mind. "Christine..." he finally breathed my name and took my hand from him. "This is a celebration of you..." he purred at my mouth before fusing our lips once more.

I didn't know what his comment meant about continuing or not, but when I tried to reach for his pants I was turned quickly on his lap. His long hand slid possessively down my body to cup me between the legs. "A celebration of you does not consist of anything for me," he breathed hotly in my ear and rubbed me intimately through the layers of my skirts. I moaned, not only because it felt good, but because it felt so risqué.

"What if..." I gasped inward as his movements began to lift my skirts and the cold air slapped my legs. "What if...people..." my brain was not fully functioning, but Erik understood.

"I locked the door, relax my love..." his voice was a liquid purr in my ears and I sank against him, feeling the pulse of his body, the beat of his heart, and the rising of my soul in response to his touch.

He slipped his hand beneath my skirts and loved me achingly softly as snow twirled to the rooftop, silently dancing for us. I moaned his name and tried to encourage him to take me, to press me to the cold ground or let me straddle him, but he would not be swayed.

"My goddess needs to be properly worshipped." He nibbled my ear as his fingers orchestrated the swell of desire within me. My mind was conjuring images of him making love to me, to play while he pleasured me. I could feel myself riding the wave of pleasure, it built momentum and power as I arched wantonly beneath his magical touch. "So close..." he whispered, his own hips pressing upward to move with mine, his hard desire rubbing my backside, as I felt my senses overwhelm.

I shuddered with my release, crying out, and digging my nails into Erik's arms. I slumped into him as he delicately removed his hand from beneath my skirts. His arms cradled me with infinite love.

He began to sing softly, as I curled contentedly, in his lap and in his arms. I couldn't make out all the words, but I heard one line drift through my drowsy head. "The goddess finally sleeps, in the lap of her lover..."

**Erik**

Opening night. _**(**Yes all of that! Can you believe it? One review. Maybe your review will inspire something too?**) **_

I tried to stay calm and speak rationally to the voice in my head that wanted to stick like glue to Christine's side all night. She cannot very well be a star if some freak is attached to her hip all night. I did turn down Cameron to watch the performance with him. I would stay in the wings, hopefully out of the way, but at least I would be closer if she needed me. My presence might very well deter any foul play from Carlotta.

Christine and I had warmed her throat earlier, and I'd helped her pin up her hair, after she sent away the girls who usually did it. She had to permit one girl to apply her stage makeup but Christine seemed to prefer to be self sufficient, and not have a dozen hand maidens. I think she did it mostly for me because I did not want to leave her side and she wanted me to be happy and comfortable. A gaggle of girls in her room would have made me very uncomfortable.

Before she stepped onto the stage, she kissed the air by my lips, afraid to muss the rouge, and whispered I love you.

I watched her, as Piangi sang to her and marveled at how genuine the expressions on her face were. She appeared to be in love with Piangi and as her voice rose with his, I was slightly jealous. That could be me out there, if I wasn't a freak. I could be the one singing opposite my angel if not for this joke of a face God gave me. Piangi took Christine in his arms at the end of their duet and kissed her the way he was supposed to, turning his body to cover the fact that they did not actually press their lips passionately. But Christine's hands could be seen by everyone as she clutched to him lovingly.

Applause broke out as they left the stage, and the dancers began to fill the space. Meghan twirled into the lead and the orchestra played on. My attention though, was now focused on Christine in front of me.

"Very good," I murmured at her and glanced around us. Piangi had peeled off to blot his sweaty forehead and Thomas was telling him how wonderful he was in low whispers. I pulled Christine against me and her hands clutched at me, just as they'd clutched at Piangi. Jealousy tore through me, much heavier this time, and I yanked her into the deep recesses of the curtain. I pinned her against the wall and laid my teeth on her neck, since I couldn't kiss her reddened mouth. She moaned softly and arched into my embrace.

"Erik," she groaned, curling her fingers in my hair as I licked her neck and bit it again. "I only have a few minutes..."

"It would be enough," I pressed our bodies together, "I could have you against the wall..."

"Later, my love," she whispered in my ear. "This is your own fault for not giving in earlier."

She was right, as usual. I'd thought that we should obstain today until after the performance. Many performers swore that more passion could be manufactured into their performance if they obstained from intimate relations. Christine thought the idea was rubbish, especially this morning when we woke in bed together and she wanted to 'finish what we'd started' last night on the roof.

"If I take you now, do you think it would distract you for the rest of the evening?"

She laughed lightly and cooed, "You are so naughty..." Her tongue darted out to trace my ear and I shuddered as she giggled girlishly. "I guess I'm naughty too."

"My naughty vixen," my lips hovered over her neck, wanting to kiss, suckle, nibble and bite, but I pulled back. She is yours. Now or later, she is still yours.

We emerged from the coverage of the curtains and no one noticed. Thank goodness for that, because I can imagine the embarrassment of trying to explain. Christine had only moments before she needed to be onstage. I fixed part of her hair that my jealousy had undone and then stepped back to let her collect herself before she had to reenter. I moved back into the dark corner and leaned on the wall, crossing my arms tightly. My breath was quite uneven and I stared at Christine's back as she did a few deep breaths herself.

What a fool I was. The girl is besotted with you. As if she would trade you in for Piangi. The tenor might not even have a preference for women judging from the amount of time he spent with Thomas. My eyes wandered down Christine's body. I certainly would never stop us from indulging in carnal delights again. It was too hard to concentrate on other things, like what Carlotta was planning, when I really had only one thing on my mind.

**Christine**

I closed my eyes and tried to regain my senses. Deep breaths and listening to the music helped, but Erik was still behind me, staring at me with those penetrating eyes of his. I could feel them on me and I turned to give him a look. I found him glaring at Carlotta as she waited further down the stage from my position.

A chill went down my spine as I still felt the touch of someone's eyes on me. I looked around but could see no one watching me. I turned my attention back to Meg finishing her dance and tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

You are the star, I repeated in my head. Act like it.

I put everything out of my head but the music. It was a talent I was learning to unleash with Erik's guidance. I'd always thought that I was just flighty or maybe even a little dense to be able to take myself to another place so easily. My mind could take me anywhere I wanted, but when music called to me, it was impossible not to answer. I rode the music to the end and stood beaming at everyone present. Applause filled the air, random cries of bravo cut through as we all took our bows. Piangi had quite a following of admirers, but apparently I did as well.

The party afterwards was dizzying. Champagne was passed around in long stemmed glasses and not a sour face could be seen. Even Erik was more relaxed this evening then ever before. He still stayed tight to my side, which I had no disagreement with, especially when we slid away for a few minutes to kiss behind one of the sceneries.

"Are you tired?" He traced my cheek adoringly before we headed back into the throng of people.

"You _want_ me to be tired so we can go to bed." I teased him and was graced with that charming half smile of his.

"Guilty as charged," the smile got bigger. "How will you punish me?"

"A spanking." I grabbed a bum cheek in one hand, "On your bare bottom, you naughty boy."

Erik slid closer. Close enough that I could feel his body, taut and hard against me. "I already told you spankings are only for women." His smile was gone, his tone not as joking and I could have argued with his statement, or wondered at the turn in his playful mood, but I preferred to tease when I could.

"Well, you are certainly not a women," I emphasized my words with a slow roll of my hips.

"Stay here," he whispered harshly in my ear and was gone. I was left leaning against the wall behind a piece of scenery, completely baffled. He was back before I could even think to move and he looked stern. "I heard someone, but they ran off quickly. We should rejoin the party."

He took my arm like a gentleman, but I knew the glint was in his eye now. He was not approachable for the rest of the evening and the evening was longer than usual with the event of the new year. The men had planned it this way, for the after party, but it was still a long day. The time was counted down and at midnight Erik kissed me lightly on the mouth while one of the chorus members took Meghan in his arms and kissed her noisily in front of many people. Meghan looked none to thrilled with it and wiped her mouth off afterwards before turning back to the others with a laugh. I glanced for Cameron, and though he wasn't looking at her I had a feeling he had seen it all. I fretted briefly about the two of them. What if Cameron didn't really love her?

I was still busy dreaming of Meg's happiness when Erik stiffened.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"To pay my deepest respect to Diva Daae," Raoul DeChangy bowed his head.

"Your respect is about as deep as your intellect and not desired." Erik turned me from Raoul and lead me away. I did not look over my shoulder, though I did want to, if only to see his expression.

The revellers were becoming drunk and rowdy and Erik deemed it a good time to leave. "I will drop you at your room to change, I have to speak to Cameron briefly."

I changed out of the costume dress and hung it nicely. I washed my face and dressed myself enough to travel down below. I sat and took down my hair, dreaming about my upcoming night of passion in the hands, and bed, of my fiancee.

**Erik**

I left Christine and walked slowly back towards the office. Someone had been following us this evening and now they were trailing me. It was two men, as far as I could tell. One was heavier then the other and they were not very skilled at keeping themselves silent. I pretended to be unaware as I listened intently for their movements. They followed me to the office and as I slid inside, I recalled the hour and the revelry, and realized I should have knocked.

Cameron was kissing a dancer on his lap. She was not blond. She did not have sparkling blue eyes and she was not Meghan.

I resisted the urge to ask, what the hell, and fixed my eyes on his face. He was ashamed but he hid it well. He gently shoved the girl off and patted her behind, "Business meeting, princess. Perhaps another time."

She giggled and lowered her eyes as she scooted past me and out the door. I was momentarily distracted from my current problem. I finally said it.

"What the hell?"

Cameron gave me a look, "I could say the same." I shook my head.

"You knew I was coming."

"Slipped my mind," he gestured boredly. "What exactly were we planning to discuss? Our success?" He was smiling slowly and I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Cameron was fooling around and wanted me to either know about it, or witness the act. I was being followed and I did not warn Christine about the danger she could be in. I felt like I was developing a headache.

"I will not ignore what I just saw, Meghan is dear to me and..."

"This has nothing to do with Meg." He started out firm but his face softened and his eyes took on a dreamy stare. "Actually it helped me realize how truly one of a kind she is..." He looked a little drunk and I gritted my teeth.

"Meghan _is_ one of a kind." I fixed him with what I hoped was a stern look. "If I find that she has been hurt by your actions..."

Cameron laughed, "Are you threatening me, Erik?"

"Yes." I crossed my arms and he sobered himself.

"My intention is to never hurt Meghan. You have my word." His brown eyes burned with truth for a moment before they went bleary again. "She has that extra something that has been whispering to my heart. But is it enough?" I wasn't sure if he knew he was still talking. "Can I even love her? I want to love her, but I don't know if want is enough..."

I was trying to follow him and decided he was too tired, and drunk, to think straight. "As long as your _intentions_ are good." I was being slightly sarcastic but he didn't seem to notice.

"Are yours?"

"I beg your pardon?"

His smile stretched across his face, "Can you tell me all of your intentions are good?"

"My intentions to what?"

"Everything?" he shrugged as if he didn't care particularly. I resisted the urge to rub my nose again.

"Someone is following me, or perhaps following Christine, but I left her in her room and they followed me, so I may be the actual target."

"Huh?" Cameron looked perplexed. "Following you? Target? What's going on?"

"I intend to find out. If you and I have nothing further to discuss..."

"Wait!" Cameron held up his hand and turned his chair to come closer. He looked a little more clear headed. "Do you think you are meant harm? How long have they been following you?"

"A few hours now and I have no idea whether_ their_ intentions are good_._"

Cameron's brow was furrowed in thought. "Do you think they are armed?"

I shrugged indifferently. Unless they shot a pistol at me straight away, I could probably disarm them.

"Did you warn Christine?" was his next question and I felt guilty for again hiding things from her.

"I will go back to her, warn her, and then lure the men out into the alley behind the opera."

"Erik, I..." he looked like he was thinking quickly. "I don't want you to do this alone."

"Relax Cameron," I let him see how confident I was in my abilities. "This will be easy."

**Christine**

Erik returned to me and I was ready to go below to have our romantic evening, but he sat me on the bed, and I realized he'd come through my door and not the mirror.

"Someone is following me and I need to find out who and why?"

My mind whirled with all the bad possibilities and my breath quickened. "What?"

"I am telling you so you will know to be on guard, and so you will not accuse me of keeping secrets."

My lungs were constricting painfully. Maybe it was better to not know these things. "Who would follow you...why? You can't just let them catch you...what if they have a pistol?" I'd read about pistols.

"Hush, pet, don't think of such things." He took me in his arms. "Everything will be alright. I just want to ask them a few questions. Can you pray for me?" He asked softly and tears formed in my eyes.

I nodded with my face pressed into his neck, inhaling his spicy, cedar scent greedily. He left quickly saying he would return and I fell to my knees in prayer.

**Erik**

The buffoons, as I was beginning to think of them, had split up. The heavier one was still following me and I had to put certain thoughts out of my head. Thoughts that the other man was now watching Christine's door or trying to get in. It was entirely possible he had also gone to fetch more men. I was glad I'd given Christine a task to complete. At least if she was praying, she would not be worrying. Too much. Why did she insist on knowing these things?

I walked casually out the front doors of the Garnier and down the stairs. I made a show of trying to see if anyone was following me and then ducked into the side alley. I moved quickly in the shadows, making my way past the gate and the door, down to the lake, all the way to the back of the opera house, where I set myself up. The only weapon I had was the stick from Cameron's chair. He'd wanted to help however he could and giving me a weapon, while not being the most responsible choice, especially since he lectured me about violent conduct, was quite helpful.

I took it out and felt its weight before shedding my jacket and tucking the stick into the back of my pants. I crossed my arms and waited. The moron slipped around the corner and then froze as he saw me waiting for him.

"Nice night for a stroll?" I mocked his stupidity and then grabbed him forcefully by the jacket to pull him closer to my angry face. "Why are you following me?"

"I don't know!" He blubbered and his hands scrambled at mine, trying to get me to let go.

"Where is your companion?" I put more of a persuasive purr into my question and he calmed slightly.

"Watching the girl's door."

"What is your name?" I decided I needed to fully interrogate him under hypnosis. That way I could find out everything and he would not recall giving me the information. The tubby man was no intellectual match for my voice and he spilled it all.

Raoul DeChangy had hired him to spy on Christine and I. Find out everything they could about me, especially anything unsavory and to let him know when Christine was most often left alone. It was difficult to just wipe the man's brain and let him go, when I wanted to strangle him, but I gave him a special task to complete for me and I would have to be patient, and wait for it to bear fruit. It was definitely time to end this.

I only had to wait for about two hours and Raoul DeChangy came around the corner to the back of the opera house, expecting a secret informant and getting me.

He scrambled backwards into the buffoon who had helped me. I grabbed the infruiating fop and growled at his hired help to leave. The man ran off, much to Raoul's dismay, and I began to smile in a very evil manner.

"Who knows that you are here?" I asked cruely.

Raoul looked ready to piss his pants. "My father, the police, everyone..." He trailed off as I started laughing.

"I highly doubt that," I started dragging him with me while he clawed at my grip.

"Let me go! What are you going to do? I'll tell Christine of your treatment.." With an inhuman snarl, I slammed him against the stone wall.

"Never say her name again!" Anger was clouding my judgement.

"She's supposed to be mine, you freak!" He was being very brave to yell that in my face. Or very stupid, which I tended to lean towards. It made me feel sorry for senior DeChangy.

"She will always be mine, you childish idiot."

"Mine! She's mine!" He was struggling in my grasp. I jerked him against the wall so his head smacked the stone to get him to be quiet.

"I should kill you!" I placed one hand over his throat and pressed. I let him see how much I wanted to. How much enjoyment I would get from ending his life.

Tears formed in his eyes and I rolled mine. "Raoul DeChangy," I spoke his name with every drop of persuasion I could muster and his eyes glazed in a snap. "That's better," I muttered. "Shut up." I told him clearly and then continued to drag him down to my underground cavern.


	60. Taken

**Erik**

The stupid fop sat there with a vacant expression on his face as I paced back and forth in front of him. I'd tied him to the chair, but I didn't think he would be running anywhere while I held him in my power. Even if he could run, where would he go? Into the lake? At least if he did, I could say that he drowned all on his own and I had no part in it.

I shook my head and continued pacing. I had the perfect solution. One that would keep Christine safe from him and not muss a hair on his pretty little head. I would have to be very careful with what I said to him to make sure he never came near us again. My course of action was set, but I continued to pace and hesitate because part of me wanted to see the idiot scared. Part of me wanted to torture him for the pain and anguish he'd caused in my angel's heart. Part of me wanted to release him from my voice control just so I could scare the shit out of him. I stopped in front of him and glared, but the vacant, pleased expression stayed on his face. I growled in disgust at my own weakness and spoke his name.

He blinked and I finally saw the fear I'd been craving.

"Where am I?" He looked around the dark, underground cavern, taking in the lake in front of him, and began pulling at his bindings. "What do you want?" His lips were already trembling and I grimaced. This was too easy.

"I want you dead."

He went white as a sheet and swallowed roughly. "My father will come searching for me." He was grasping at nothing.

"You will never be found." I crossed my arms and stared down at him in contempt.

"Please, don't hurt me," he whimpered and disgust, followed swiftly by rage, tore through me. I closed the distance between us and shoved him hard enough that the chair toppled over. I landed on him with one hand braced against his throat.

"Don't hurt you?" I growled through clenched teeth, putting my face right next to his. "How many times have you hurt Christine? How many more times would you, if I did not plan to end this tonight?" I was practically panting with uncontrollable anger, and my hand was squeezing his flesh.

"I...Ee..." he tried to talk but I was barely letting him breathe.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked cruelly. "I can't hear you with my hand pressing your throat like this." His eyes were bulging. "Do you know how easy it would be to kill you?" I whispered as I pressed harder. I could feel his windpipe against my hand. It would be so easy...

Darkness trickled into my mind and Christine whispered in my ear, "...we forgive those who trespass against us..."

I jerked away from Raoul and glanced around. She was no where near us, couldn't be anywhere near us, but I'd heard her sweet voice clearly in my head. As if it was brought to me just at the moment I needed, to pull me from the edge of darkness. I covered my face as Raoul began to wheeze. He was trying not to cry and I was trying not to unravel and kill him. I'd fulfilled my urge to see him scared.

That is enough, Erik. I shrugged the anger from me and curled his full name from my evil tongue. Time to get to work.

When I finally released him into the world above, I noticed it would soon be dawn. I was tired. Not only that, but I was afraid if I looked at Christine's innocent face, I would start weeping and blunder through an explanation of my wicked behavior. I was walking back to her room, through my tunnels, and I felt a heavy weight pulling me down and slowing my step.

If she knew what you did tonight...

If she knew how cold and uncaring you are...

You must tell her...

I pushed my thoughts away as I came to the mirror that would reveal my goddess to me. She was kneeling by the bed, deep in prayer and I realized I'd left her praying all the night through while I took care of the DeChangy welp.

I entered quickly and took her in my arms and she sobbed with relief.

"Erik," she began to cry and I knew I was an evil man.

"My love," I held her close and cherished her sweet scent. Her hair was down around her shoulders and I gathered it in my grotesque hands and whispered against her skull. "Your prayers kept me safe. All will be well now." I hoped I was speaking the truth.

Raoul had been easy to hypnotize. I enforced in his mind that he forget all about Christine. Her looks, her voice, her name, all were erased from his recollection. I instructed him to join the navy, or something else patriotically appropriate, to make a man of himself. Anything to get him away from here and the temptation of my goddess. I didn't doubt that he felt she should be his. I knew, in depth, what it was to be possessed by her angelic radiance. The best I could do was to try to get him to forget her forever, and move on. If he was on a boat far away and I never had to see him again, all the better.

"I was afraid for you," her lips were kissing me between soft words. "I was so afraid, but I told myself how smart you are, and how dangerous you are." Speaking of how dangerous I am...

"Christine," I needed to tell her what I'd done. She had to know just in case the boy returned, but I couldn't. The words stuck in my mouth and refused to be spoken. She will think you are evil, the dark voices whispered, and I knew they were right.

I held her close, not wanting to confess my sins, and she held me close, rapturously grateful for my safe return.

"Take me home." She asked quietly and I obliged.

We moved in silence down to my home and when we were safe behind its walls, Christine took my face in her hands.

"I'm not sure I want to know what happen tonight."

"Alright," I said softly, wondering if I would get off so easily.

"I know you were threatened, and I was threatened, but none of that matters." She was petting me with a feverish intensity in her eyes. "I just want to go to bed and hold you." Her lips were trembling and I slowed them with a tender kiss.

"Let us retire." That was the only kiss we shared and those were the last words spoken that early morning. We laid in bed, as the sun was rising, and clutched one another tightly. Both of us fell promptly asleep.

I woke feeling groggy and confused. My bedroom was dark and the dreams had once again disorientated me. Did I have someone locked in a torture chamber? Did I have a torture chamber? Was I questioning someone? Did I cut the skin from his arms? No, no, I'd let him go. But where was Christine? I reached out.

Christine was beside me. I pulled her to me and quite abruptly, wanted her. My erection grew with painful speed, and she was barely half awake, when I rolled her to her back.

"Oh, Erik," were her only whispered words before I pressed inside her. I paused momentarily to cherish the feeling of being safe and whole once more, and then I fucked her. The goddess quivered beneath me as I had my way with her. I was no better then Cameron with his dalliances. I only cared for her body, for the pleasure and completion it would give me. Her pleasure wasn't my concern at this point. I closed my eyes and tried to slow down, but it was as if I had no control over my body. I felt mindless, even though my brain was spinning out too many things to concentrate on them all. I came quickly and felt disgusted with myself.

We stayed in our lover's embrace, our hearts hammering side by side. I recalled that it had been days since we'd made love and figured that was why it had been so hard to stop myself. I could feel her soft breasts rise and fall against my chest and desire trickled through me again.

Her hips rolled beneath me as she stretched. "What a way to wake up..." she purred. I started kissing her shoulder, knowing I had more sexual energy to burn. I could feel it coiling inside me, waiting to spring itself upon her. She wiggled and arched as I uncoupled us so I could kiss her breasts. I suckled and teased, until her breath was panting from her pink, succulent mouth. I took that sweet mouth roughly, feeling the passion rise darkly within me. I held her down by her wrists, bit her on the lip and forced her legs further open...

I threw myself away from Christine and staggered towards my bathroom. I had such violent energy in me. Probably because I refrained from hurting Raoul at all last night, but if it meant I was going to hurt Christine, then I should have pounded the crap out of Raoul. A cold shower. That would help cure me.

Her dainty hand closed over my wrist and I looked down at her delicate fingers in confusion.

"Are you teasing me?" She herself looked a little confused, but she also looked delectably naked, her curly gold hair, a wild halo around her smooth, pretty face. My mouth opened to answer but her bottom lip began protruding. "Don't you want me?"

I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, none too gently. I picked her up so her legs could wrap around me. Without asking, I lowered her body onto mine and she arched between me and the wall, clinging to my neck as our bodies joined once more. Darkness blurred my vision and my hips pumped without thought. The angel cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders as she tried to hold herself up in the air. I tried to hold her down, to keep her from flying away, as I braced the wall with my other arm.

I came again, my vision blurring once more. I was completely oblivious as to whether Christine had climaxed. She was draped around me, her arms hanging limp down my back, her legs trembling to stay tight around me and for a moment I imagined that I could keep her in this position all day, never uncoupling. Just stay safe and accepted inside her for the rest of this day. This was the only place I truly belonged...

"Erik..." she murmured as if drugged, and I decided that she had experienced the right amount of pleasure. I just couldn't remember exactly how and that was bothering me. I held her tight against me and pushed away from the wall.

"Bath or bed?" I spoke with a dry throat, hesitating to move before her answer, and realizing those were my first words to her this erotic morning.

"Mmmm bath..." she kissed my neck and I shifted my grasp on her to her round bottom. She giggled in encouragement and clung to my neck.

"I will need to put you down," my voice was growling strangely, as if I wanted to do no such thing. All I wanted was to be wrapped up in my angel.

"If I can't stand, I'll just sink to the floor as gracefully as I can." Her humor at my brutality cut through my brain's confusion. I left her leaning against the wall and quickly set about starting the fire to warm the bath water, fetching her a robe, lighting some candles and boiling some water for tea. The tasks cleared my head considerably, especially when I saw the abrasions all down Christine's back, and I began to wonder just what had possessed me to take her so roughly. Not just once but twice!

Possess me?

Perhaps using my evil talents had allowed something to truly possess me.

**Christine**

My body was still twitching under Erik's robe and the world was a little hazy around the edges. He brought me tea without speaking and as he finished setting out the bath, I watched him moving around the room with lowered eyes. I knew he could handle me roughly sometimes, and I'd even come to terms with the fact that I enjoyed it when he did. The thing that worried me this time, was the swirling darkness in his eyes.

I would not think of it now. I would not think of how mad he looked, how unlike himself he looked when he pushed me to that wall. I did not want to think of it, and he was making it difficult to think at all, because he was still naked, and striding around like he had important things to do. Just watching him move, in his familiar manner, made my stomach tighten in anticipation of next time, no matter who I saw in his eyes.

I tightened the robe around me and stretched my back slightly. It was definitely scraped from being pressed to the wall, but oh...being pressed to the wall...

I shivered delicately as Erik straightened, from bending to put in the stopper. His tight, round, smooth buttocks flexed between the scars on his back and legs. I loved his hard, muscular, utterly masculine body. How could I think that it wasn't him when it clearly could only be him making love to me? He approached me slowly, almost cautiously, and reached to help me up. The robe was gently tugged from my body as he led me to the bath, and the grey light in his eyes was all his own. I couldn't help rubbing against him, to silently express my joy at seeing this. He cherished our embrace for a moment before lifting me into the heated water.

Maybe I just imagined the eyes. It was not well lit when we joined against the wall, maybe it was a trick of the gloom. He also has gone without release for three days, so that could be the reason for his roughness. Or maybe something really bad happened last night to make that other man rise up in my Erik.

I sank into the water, the scratches on my back only stung for a second, and I relaxed against the side. Erik did not move to get in with me. He sat on the stool beside me and ran his hands through his hair.

I'd asked to not know what happened last night, and though I really didn't want to know what he had to do, now I was beginning to be curious. I had to know who was after us. I had to know the levels Erik was going to keep me safe. To keep us safe. Maybe we should leave here and I could forget my fame. It was becoming foolish for me not to be more informed.

"Won't you bathe with me?" I asked, without pouting, to get him in the tub first.

"I was going to have a cold shower, when you stopped me at the door." He spoke downward, not looking up, and it seemed as if he was not happy with our latest new position.

"Hmmm," I trailed my hand through the water, drawing absent circles. He also sounded tense and upset. "Should I apologize for stopping you?" I was trying to be silly and make him laugh at the impression he was giving me, but he looked at me solemnly, apology written on his face.

"Does your back sting?"

I shook my head quickly, probably too quickly. "Not a bit. I did tell you that you could...do that to me," I inclined my head towards the wall, "later..." I fluttered my lashes down shyly, hoping he remembered the exchange in the curtains during the show. I'd certainly thought about it plenty before I found out we were being followed all night.

I sighed and ducked my head under the water to smooth all my manic hair from my face.

When I next looked at Erik he was staring at the floor between his feet with his elbows braced on his knees. His white back was hunched under his multiple scars and he looked very tired, almost haggard. I could feel my face softening into that gooey, lovey face that he coaxed from within my soul.

"My love?" I whispered and he looked over, his eyes sharp. "I know I said I didn't want to know, but I think I need to."

He knelt at the tub's side, "If you are certain, I will tell you all." I had the impression of someone kneeling for confession, but we were both naked, and I dispelled the thought.

"I'm ready now," I nodded to assure him and he made a noise that sounded like relief.

"First, I have to apologize for leaving you to pray for so long. I was only in danger about half of that time, and I am very sorry I did not leave him tied up to come tell you we were safe. You could have rested." He cupped my jaw and I shook my head gently at his rapid words.

"I would not have slept without you next to me." I decided not to say anything about someone being tied up? He would explain.

"I have hypnotized the person behind the stalking and forced them to forget you and I. Hopefully, if it worked properly, he will not even know us if he passes us in the street. I even erased the opera and the Garnier from his mind." He braced for my reaction, but I had no reaction yet.

"Was that difficult to do?" I was remembering the time he'd hypnotized me, and how strange and powerful it had been.

"Not particularly, once I decided what to do with him."

"Him? Was it only one man then?" Erik's eyes looked up and the hard glint there, let me know how difficult, and enjoyable, it had all been for him.

"Raoul DeChangy will never recognize your face or name again." He was very happy with what he'd done and was trying not to show it, but I was so proud of him for solving things in a non violent manner, that I actually laughed.

"It was Raoul?"

"Behind the stalking, yes. He hired the men to follow us last night. He did not appear to have any knowledge about Carlotta and Joseph so they must be a separate threat." And Erik would always see people of their ilk as a direct threat. Carlotta was probably just trying to get more stage time, it's not as if she would actually hurt me. I was too gullible to her plotting and she was a crafty witch. We were a terrible match, her and I.

"Why was he stalking us?" I stuck to one problem at a time.

"He wanted to try to win you by approaching you, alone, with news of my misdeeds."

I shook my head. "He still wouldn't give me up..." I was a little awed by Raoul's level of loyalty to me when I never gave him any encouragement or any reason to think I was interested.

"He has been forced to give you up." I slid closer, kneeling in the tub across from him. The water lapped over the edge, giving me images of Erik, wet from the chest down.

"Thank you, Erik, for protecting me." I kissed his nose. "I'm glad he won't be back."

"He is gone." It sounded much more ominous from Erik's mouth, but I pressed my kiss on his unyielding lips anyway.

"Can you bathe with me now or do you still want a cold shower?" I spoke against his mouth and felt him smile faintly.

"A shower is faster..." he was joking. He climbed in the large tub and I pulled him to lean on me for a change. His body relaxed so much that I thought he was going to fall asleep in the bath tub. I let my hands wander on his chest and held him close to me as I closed my eyes and leaned back on the edge of the tub. Today was a free day, if we didn't sleep the whole day away already. The whole cast had today off, but starting tomorrow, we would be running a full schedule of Hannibal for the next two months straight. Cameron and Erik had a few ideas of interjecting other smaller performance nights into the schedule, but nothing had been decided yet.

Today was the first day of the new year and though it hadn't started exactly as we'd wanted, I felt good nonetheless. We faced a challenge together and overcame a nagging problem. Hopefully the new year would bring less obstacles for us.

I was still waiting to hear back from Monsieur Benoit about my wedding dress and when I did, the day of our marriage celebration would fast approach. Each night as I drifted to sleep in my lover's arms I would send a silent prayer, apologizing for my moral decay and promising that soon this man would be my husband. It would all be happening so, so soon.

**Meg**

Thursdays were the notorious slow days once a show was in full production. On performance nights the cast always gathered mid-day for warmup and small run throughs if they were needed. Friday and Saturday nights had back to back performances, a day of rest on Sunday, perform on Monday and Wednesday with rehearsal on Tuesday and Thursday if anything was needed. If nothing was posted for Thursday, the day always dragged on forever waiting for the end of each week.

I was trying to occupy my time after lunch, on one such Thursday, with wandering through the halls and I somehow wound up in front of the office door. I pursed my lips in annoyance. There were some fancy rumors being told about Cameron and I raised a hand to open the door rudely and demand some answers. I hesitated and decided I better knock and try to be polite.

"Come in," Cameron called out, and I slid inside and leaned back on the closed door. He smiled as our eyes met and those damn butterflies in my stomach flew into a frenzy. "Meghan," he sounded really happy to see me and I took a few tentative steps towards him.

"Are you busy?" I gestured to the door and he began wheeling around the desk.

"No, not at all, come sit down." He was beside the vacant chair for me and I couldn't help noticing it was the same chair I sat in when we shared our first kiss. I sat down across from him and he took my hand. "What can I do for my graceful bird?"

"Bird?" I made a face and his smile deepened.

"Yes, bird. You have no say in the pet names I choose to call you." I couldn't help feeling all warm inside when he talked to me like this.

"I was just bored and I thought," I shrugged and looked away. "Maybe you were here, and bored too."

"I may not have been bored, but," his finger gently turned my face to his. "What I was doing before is suddenly not important in the slightest."

Damn all sweet-talking, good-looking men to hell! "I heard a funny rumor." My heart was tripping. "Maybe you would like to hear what the cast is saying about you?" He was tickling me under my chin, making me stretch my neck for more.

"I don't care what anyone but you thinks of me." He was trying to drown me with those big brown eyes and I threw out what I'd heard.

"Not only do dancers sit on your desk, but they sit in your lap too?" He didn't even twitch, so it _had_ to be false.

"Is that where you would like to sit this time, Meghan?" He leaned to me with closing eyes and I almost sighed in relief as I met his mouth. Kissing him was like setting a small blazing fire in my gut. I wanted to fling myself on him but knew it would be a bad idea in so many ways. But I swear my skin tingled when he kissed me. I reached up to touch his cheek, his neck, his thick, silky hair. His hands were cupping my face and I stretched closer, hoping he would never stop.

One of his hands skimmed down my bare neck and I was melting into a little puddle on the chair. He pulled back and his eyes seemed darker to me. Almost black.

"Are you still bored?" He purred as his lips brushed my cheek and temple, as if he couldn't stop himself from kissing me. I felt quite giggly and girly and almost tittered stupidly, but I restrained myself.

"I'm not bored anymore." My fingers slid down his arm, covertly feeling his muscles as he experimentally kissed my neck and a long sigh left my body.

"Oh, you like that, hmm?" He breathed on my neck and then set his warm lips there again. I bit back a moan but couldn't stop my body from arching like some attention starved feline. I clutched at him for one unthinking moment and then realized how silly I was acting. I stood abruptly and pushed his hands away from me. His eyes were asking questions, but he did not say a word. Polite, gentle Cameron.

"I shouldn't have bothered you," my breath was uneven and I hated that he could so easily unravel me. He probably didn't even have to think about it. It was probably a well timed move, that he had perfected on many a willing participant...

"You have never bothered me, Meghan." His smile was warm, inviting and a little bit naughty, and my heart was starting to race again. "I've enjoyed every fleeting moment you were near me." Why did he have to be such a smooth talker? Like nothing ever troubled him? I would not giggle. I did not come here to make a fool of myself!

I decided I needed to take back some ground and I leaned over, as if to lecture him, and pushed my rather large breasts into his line of sight. "How much did you enjoy those times that I was," I breathed in strategically, touching my neck and sliding my fingers down to finish with a soft murmur in his ear, "Near you?"

"Very near..." he said softly and then jerked lightly, annoyance passing over his face. "I mean, very much. I have told you how much I care for you, Meghan."

I pursed my lips to keep from grinning. I was glad that I'd thrown him off, glad it was possible. "A girl likes to hear her company is _desired_." I pretended to bite my fingernail in distress, knowing that men liked the visual of something near a woman's mouth.

"I desire only your company." Cameron spoke it like a heartfelt oath, his eyes burning with dark heat and I cupped his cheek in one hand.

"Will we ever get a chance to be alone?" I whispered breathily. There was no mistaking what I was speaking about. It was quite frustrating to have this hanging over us for the last few weeks.

"Soon," his eyes never left my face, as if I was the center of his universe.

"Good." I kissed his lips, in a much too brief taste of that warm, delicious mouth. So brief, that I had to kiss him again and his hand came up to trap mine against his cheek. We pulled apart reluctantly and stared at each other. Our attraction was there, shimmering in the air around us. I thought about just doing it here in the office, but with Cameron I wanted to be better than that, and I knew he probably would need a bed. He started kissing my fingers with his eyes closed and a satisfied smile curled my lips. The rumors were false. He obviously liked me and wanted me. I liked him too, and soon we would try to make a baby. I would get pregnant and then he would marry me and I'd have my handsome, gentle husband and gorgeous, happy children.

I bit my lip to keep from grinning but it was impossible. Those lovely chocolate orbs searched my face.

"What?" He asked softly, a smile playing with his lips.

"This feels nice." I squeezed his hand and then regretted saying anything. I didn't want him to think I was totally enamored with him. I walked around his chair slowly, dragging my hand up his arm and around his shoulders as I brushed the back of his head with my breasts and ruffled his hair with trailing fingers. His eyes were darkening as I completed my circle and I turned my back on him, which was harder for me then it should have been, and sauntered out of his office. I couldn't help glancing back once and calling out, "Be a good boy" over my shoulder.

I wasn't bored anymore, or annoyed, and the euphoria of again feeling his lips on mine, and of having the rumors put to rest, lasted for quite a few days.

**Erik**

I tucked around the corner as Meg came out of the office calling over her shoulder. I didn't want her to know I'd heard their little meeting. It was terribly unpolite of me to listen in, but I was slightly worried for Meghan. She was young and easily swayed, and I kept seeing Cameron with that other woman in my mind.

I would get to the bottom of this right now.

I waited for ten minutes and then entered the office and Cameron was sitting, probably right where Meg left him. The chair was empty beside him and I knew that during those silent moments they had not been staring into each other's eyes.

"You don't need to be here this late, or even at all on Thursdays." I admonished his work ethic, as I often did. I was beginning to feel very guilty for the little I was doing on the opera end.

"Just a few last minute things I need to jot down." He turned to the desk authoritatively.

"I actually needed to speak to you about the girls." I plunked myself in Meg's vacated chair and he was writing a few things quickly as he mumbled to himself.

"About Christine or Meghan?" he asked without looking up.

"Both." He glanced up now and then finished his writing to give me all his attention. "Christine has petitioned me to stop you from consorting with others." She had heard the rumor as well, but I reassured her that Cameron was faithful to Meg. This was just my way of sneaking around to hearing how he truly felt about Meghan.

He scrutinized me momentarily and then sagged a little. "Christine has found me guilty?"

"I convinced her the rumor was false."

"Thank you, Erik. I wish it was false but..."

"But it is not."

"It was necessary." His back straightened.

"For what purpose?"

"An important one, I assure you, and you came at just the right moment to interrupt."

My eyes narrowed at him as I digested this new information. If he wanted me to interrupt then he didn't want that dancer. "What would you have done if I forgot about our meeting?" He laughed.

"You wouldn't forget, I'm beginning to know you well, but a man always has a back up plan." He looked smug.

"And a dancer's expectations of your actions...?" A haughty expression overtook his face.

"I am neither a saint, nor a scoundrel. I am only a man." I snorted a laugh.

"Why consort with another, when you can have the one you want?"

"It's not that simple," he frowned at me and I tried to give a sympathetic expression.

"Her mother?"

"Partially," Cameron was thinking now, the playfulness gone to allow for the gears to turn in his head.

"She is quite taken with you," I tried to get him talking but he remained mute. I gave him a moment. He almost spoke but then decided against it and stared at the corner of the desk.

"I heard that Julie is gone." I picked up some of the papers from our desk and looked through them.

"Yes, and Carlotta has been very silent."

"Thank heavens for that," I muttered as I flipped through the missives.

"Perhaps Joseph Buquet was acting on his own perverted pleasures and was planning to drag an unconscious Christine away."

I could feel my face harden. "Do not say things like that to me, or you will find yourself a stage hand with no mind left to him."

"Can you do that?" Cameron sort of goggled at me in astonishment.

"If I had a good reason to try..." I grumbled, tossing the papers back on the desk and slumping down in my chair. Maybe I should find Monsieur Buquet and interrogate him and maybe wipe Christine from his mind as well. Maybe I should tell Cameron we need to fire him. I suddenly had an uneasy feeling about the scrawny, dirty man.

"I'm planning to head home if that's all you needed to tell me." Cameron was locking up the desk.

"Perhaps you'd be interested to know that Meghan believes the rumors as well."

Cameron started to smile and tried to school his face, but it didn't quite work. "Not anymore, she doesn't."

"Oh?" I feigned surprise, though I'd known he had to convince her as such, for her to leave the office with such a silly, girly grin on her face. "Are you lying to her already, Comte?" I let a tiny bit of anger into my question and Cameron's face closed off.

"Meghan is young and impressionable, which helps me and also hinders me. However I manage to win her heart, is not really your concern, as long as I treat that heart well. Is that not true, Erik?" My name was clipped sharply and he was fixing me with a look that was questioning our entire conversation. I shrugged as if I didn't care.

"I don't really care what you say to her, but if I see her crying..."

"You should track her down and see if she's crying right now," he coaxed me with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him and stood, convinced that he really was planning to make Meghan his, even if he was going about it strangely. "She and Christine were upset by the rumors, I only wanted to see what you were going to do about it. Since you've already spoken to her, I'm assuming?" He nodded with a growing smile and I inclined my head. "I will keep my nose out of it and continue to spout your virtues and deny your _weakness_."

"I promise that was a one time weakness, Erik. I won't have you covering for me all the time and I will not make a habit of wooing the dancers. It doesn't make for a good business relationship if I'm bouncing them _all_ on my knee." The mischief in his eyes said that he could if he wanted to. "My knees are not strong enough for that. Especially when there is only one I want to bounce on my knee..."

I couldn't help laughing a little. I was glad that my two friends found each other so appealing. It made me feel good to think that they would find happiness with each other.

"Enough descriptions," I made a face. "Get yourself home for dinner. You work too hard."

"And you yourself?" He followed me out of the office and we locked the doors. "You still have dust on your pants from the site. How is the house coming along?"

"Quite well. It slowed down for the snowfall but now that it's melted I should be able to make up some time."

"We both work too hard." He wheeled himself at the pace of my steps and we moved in companionable silence down the halls of our theater. "I am glad of the work. Keeps me from thinking too much. How is Christine?" He asked suddenly.

"Fine." I wasn't sure why he was interested and noted the jump in topic.

"Would you be able to do me a few favors?" He stopped before heading outside.

"Depends."

"Ask Christine what she thinks Meghan would like for a gift."

"A gift?"

"It could be anything at all, money is no object."

"Alright, anything else?"

"I have to go to Bordeaux next week, can you hold down this fort for a few days?"

I had seriously been relying on him to manage everything so I nodded, "Of course."

"Splendid," he grinned and looked quite pleased with my cooperation. "I shall see you tomorrow, Erik. Bon nuit."

"Au revoir, Cameron." I made my way to Christine's room and used the tunnel entrance to go to the mirror. The curtain was never drawn and I stood and stared at her for a moment. Her room had a dozen floral arrangements in it and other random presents from admirers. After one week of performances, she was a star. Surrounded by flowers, she looked like a pixie, humming softly as she combed her hair, waiting for me.

I wondered if I should be buying her more gifts. Should I buy her flowers for each performance? Shower her with trinkets, chocolates, perfumes and blooms? Is that what women wanted? Cameron surely knew much more about women then I did.

I opened the mirror and Christine turned quickly to see me. Her face lit up, joy and love radiating from her visage, and I knew she needed no gift from me except my love.


	61. Dreams Come True

**Meg**

Performances were becoming second nature by the following week, and two more sell out crowds graced the grand hall on Friday and Saturday. I spent Sunday with Maman, going to church and helping the needy. Monday morning made me think of Cameron because every week that started fresh I wondered if this would be 'the week'. Somehow him and I were supposed to be trying to make a baby. The few kisses we'd shared were a good place to start, especially since they felt so amazing, but we needed somewhere where we could finish. We never even got close to any finishing.

Tuesday morning began like any other, but before I left my room to get to the scheduled rehearsal of the third act, Maman came inside.

"Clotilda needs help," she looked serious and I instantly worried for Cameron's grandmother.

"What is wrong with her?"

"Nothing," Maman tucked a loose strand of my hair into my bun. "Comte Inninbalm has to leave for business and she needs someone to stay at the house with her, and well, servants would do, but she asked specifically if you could stay to keep her company."

"And you will allow me?" I was more than a little shocked.

"Why not?" She looked genuinely put out by my question, but the look dissolved. "Just think, my little flower, playing companion to a Countess." She smiled a rare smile for me and I put my arms around her.

"She doesn't like to be called Countess," I reminded my mother.

"I'll remember that when I next visit her myself."

"I like her, Maman." I was allowed to say this at least.

"Moi aussi, and I think Comte Inninblam likes you." I could not have been more shocked if she had slapped me.

"You think...?" I was stunned that Maman would sound so calm while saying this.

"Give him a chance, ma fleur, he is a very good businessman and musically talented and he..."

"Wait!" I pulled back abruptly. "You WANT me to give Cameron a chance?"

"He speaks so highly of you," she looked away from me.

"He talks to you about me?" my voice was squeaky with disbelief.

"Meghan," her face furrowed into its usual disapproving lines. "Do not act like a child. Just because he is in a chair, does not make him any different from us." I wanted to gape at her incredulously. I could still hear her spitting out the word cripple, but if she was on my side, for whatever reason, I should roll with this.

"You think I should get to know him better?" I looked down bashfully.

"You may be surprised at how...thoughtful he is. He is the owner after all, and has asked for this small favor. Since Clotilda enjoys your company so much, we should not disappoint him or her."

"If you want, Maman," I murmured demurely.

"He will be seeing you safely to their home tomorrow, before leaving to catch his train. Be on your best behavior!" She pointed one finger at me and I smiled tentatively.

"I will, Maman. What if there is rehearsal on Thursday?"

"You can afford to have a day off. You always work so hard."

She left and I counted to thirty before howling with laughter. This had to be part of Cameron's plan to be alone with me. Maman was GIVING me permission to stay in his home. It was almost too good to be true.

**Christine**

A note from Monsieur Benoit finally came. I jumped up and down, since I was all by myself and could act like a little girl on her birthday. It said to come Thursday for a fitting and he would make the final sizing and then my dress would be done. I spun in circles around my room until I almost knocked over a vase of flowers. I looked at the pretty blooms in annoyance. So many men kept sending me flowers and chocolate, no matter that I was already spoken for. There were even some gifts from ladies, but they usually sent more practical things, like perfume or soap.

I quickly spun my hair into a knot and pinned it up. We had a run through of the third act today. Last night the scene shifters got the scene wrong and a few of the dancers tripped in the middle of their dance and then Piangi almost tripped. It had definitely not gone smoothly.

I wanted to ask Meg to come with me to the tailors, but she looked around furtively when I got a chance to ask her.

"I can't, Christine. Get Erik to go with you." She looked over her shoulder and I huffed.

"He is _not_ allowed to see my dress yet." I tried to make her understand.

"Then find someone else." She seemed very occupied and my brow furrowed.

"Your dress is probably ready too," I pouted.

"Oh," she was in some sort of quandary, as her face contorted. "I really can't come with you, Chris. I'm going to be busy on Thursday, but bring my dress back with you, I'm sure he got it right."

M. Reyer called for starting positions and we couldn't say anymore. I wanted to cross my arms and pout, but I took a breath and put aside my hurt. I'd wanted Meg to be as excited as I was.

After rehearsal I started back to my room to wait for Erik, but Meg grabbed my arm.

"Let's go eat something." She pulled me along, as she so enjoyed doing, and I struggled to get my arm back.

"Why must you yank me around all the time?"

"Sorry, princess," she dropped my arm, but kept up the pace.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" I quick stepped to keep up with her.

"I'm in a hurry for tomorrow to come."

It was my turn to grab her. "Will you tell me what is going on?"

She laughed loudly and then hussled me around the corner and pressed me against the wall. Her lips were right by my ear.

"I can't tell you until it actually happens, but I promise I will when it does."

If she ever made sense, she certainly wasn't at the moment. "Alright." She giggled and took my hand as we went to find dinner.

**Meg**

The next night, Maman and I were waiting outside of Cameron's office. Technically it was Erik's too but he was hardly around.

"Be courteous and say thank you," she was giving me last minute instructions.

"I know how to be polite, Maman." I hissed quietly, pretending to be nervous when I was actually giddy with trepidation.

"Ladies," Cameron greeted us and I couldn't meet his eye. "Thank you again, for doing me this favor, Grandmama is thrilled. Hurry please, Meghan. I must catch the last train to Bordeaux. I cannot miss it." Cameron wheeled ahead of me and I kissed Maman one last time.

"I'll be a good girl," I promised, knowing I would be nothing of the sort.

The carriage ride was silent and slightly awkward, but I suppose I didn't expect him to laugh and say what a good yarn we've pulled on my mother. I watched the trees whisk by in the dark night and tried to calm myself of what would happen when we arrived at his house.

"Where is your grandmama?" I ventured to ask, part way through the trip. He wouldn't actually bring me home openly in front of his grandmother? Would he?

"She is visiting some good friends for a few days. They've known each other all their lives." He lapsed into silence and I felt like he was very brooding today, not at all like I've come to know him. I tried not to stare, as he gazed out the window lost in thought, but his handsome face always drew my eyes. Those dark, brown, windows to his soul could melt and burn. They could be as hard or as soft as his delicious mouth. I wished he would look over and smile for me.

We entered his home with only his manservant and after taking our outerwear, he disappeared discreetly.

"Are you hungry?" Cameron asked softly, pausing at the break in the hall that would take us down to the kitchen and dinning area.

"No," I replied equally soft. My stomach was too nervous to even think of food. We continued around the long halls in silence until we came to an open bedroom door. Cameron wheeled inside and I followed him in and shut the door.

He stopped by the bed and his shoulders drooped slightly. I wondered if he was tired and if this might be a bad night to try for the first time. I didn't want to say anything so I glanced around. His bedroom was opulent. Every corner had lush fabrics and deep colors and I noticed the dressing room and bathing room off to one side. I wandered past a nice painting and dropped my bag at the foot of the bed. When I looked back at Cameron, his chocolate brown eyes were watching me.

"Could you help me?" he asked softly and I moved closer.

"What do you need help with?" My voice was eerily quiet, swallowed up by the large room. This all felt very serious.

"Getting on the bed." He pulled himself forward on the chair and put his feet on the ground.

I started to reach for him, "Can you stand?"

"With help," he took my offered arms and put one of my hands under his arm behind his back. "Like this," he guided me into the right position and when our faces were close, he finally smiled, and I felt my heart melting. "On three?"

With part of his weight on me and not on his thin legs, I got him from the chair to the bed and helped him sit back down.

"Thank you," his brow furrowed and then he pulled himself further onto the bed. "You can hang your dress in my dressing room if you like."

I turned away and went to disrobe, as ordered. My heart was beating quickly. This was much different from my experience with Albert, and any of the other, less thorough, embraces I'd taken part in. Cameron was not at all drunk for one thing. He was so calm and in control that I did not feel like he was excited by this prospect at all. I bit my lip as I began unlacing my dress. This felt more like a business transaction then an exploration of our love. I stepped out of my dress and started to pick it up, but then left it there on the floor and gave it a kick. My dresses lived on the floor in my room most nights, why would it matter here? Maybe it would even be picked up by servants?

I took down my hair and tossed it around my shoulders. The chemise I'd borrowed from Christine was lacy and elegant looking, even if it was very short and a little itchy. She had worn it as an undershirt, but it covered just enough of my backside to use as a chemise. I turned and made sure I looked good from behind. I lifted the hem and wiggled my bum.

I was extremely nervous about finally doing this. Cameron and I had only been alone a few minutes here and there. Stolen kisses and fleeting glances had their own magic when it was all you had. Now we had all night to be together, and I just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. This pent up desire for him was uncomfortable and I wasn't really sure how we were going to do this. I wanted to impress him as much as possible, be provocative and seduce him into really wanting me, but he made me so nervous that I usually ended up just acting silly. It was too hard to concentrate when his dark brown eyes fixed on me and those sweet, sculpted lips began to pull into a smile.

I felt itchy all over and I didn't think it was due to the lace. I checked my arms for a rash and then heaved a tremendous sigh as I met my own eyes in the mirror.

You can do this. You want to do this. You look fine. I took a deep breath and left the safety of the dressing room.

He was sitting in the bed, against the pillows, naked as far as I could see, though the blankets were covering his legs. His chest was strong and manly looking with dark hair between his nipples and rounded with muscle all over. My fingers curled into fists because I wanted to touch him really badly.

Our time had come.

"Would you like me to dance for you?" I asked playfully and spun around a few times to try to calm myself down.

"Maybe later," he said softly. "Will you come sit down with me?" He patted the bed and his face was so solemn and serious.

I crawled onto the bed beside him, kneeling with my legs curled underneath me. To him this was all about the seriousness and none of the fun.

"I am a little worried about something," he did look worried. I took one of his hands and tried to pat it reassuringly. "I may be too embarrassed to spit it out," at least now he was smiling, even if it looked half hearted.

"Please, don't be embarrassed with me," I asked softly. "If this works, I'll be your wife, and I don't want you to be embarrassed around your wife." It felt good to remind him what the purpose of all this was.

"You are right. I am afraid this isn't going to work." My heart shuddered for a second, thinking he meant him and I, before he kept talking. "I don't know if I'm capable, you will probably be quite disappointed. My legs are very weak, I'm not even sure if I can..."

I'd heard enough of things I didn't want to think of. I put my fingers on his lips, and leaned close to him.

"You talk too much," I stated bluntly and then cupped his face to kiss his mouth. I felt him relax and his hands curled around my waist to pull me closer as he deepened our kiss. My head spun as I twirled my fingers into his hair and played my tongue against his. Kissing he could do. The few times him and I had touched lips were burned into my memory and this kiss seemed to hold even more heat than usual. As every kiss grew bolder than the last, my body warmed in tingling waves. Our lips met and parted and met again, as if hungry for each other and never finding enough sustenance. I straddled his lap easily but then wondered if it would hurt him. I pulled back intending to ask but his eyes told me that it was fine. Especially as he spanned my hips with his hands and held on tight.

"Maybe I was being a tad hasty," his breathing was already uneven as his hands trailed up my torso, over the lacy chemise to brush under my breasts. "Meghan?" His fingers trailed down, to play with the hem of my garment and I knew what he wanted. I could have made it easy for him and just removed my pretty under thing, but I wanted him to be a lot more excited first.

I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, brushing his chin with my breasts as I sidled as close as I could. His cock was hard under the blankets and I felt a tiny bit of relief that _that_ wouldn't ruin my chances.

"Cameron..." I rubbed myself against him and his head fell back against the pillows, as his lashes fluttered.

"Meghan..." he breathed out, as his hands caressed my thighs. His hands felt so good against my skin, strong, warm and smoothly callused, and then they were sliding up and under the lace, feeling my backside quickly on the way to my back. He enveloped me in his strong arms and set his mouth on my neck.

I was shot through with fire. Inflamed by the feel of his bare hands on my flesh and his warm mouth sucking on my neck. I felt possessed as I gyrated over him, completely mindless of my actions. My ears were ringing, my hands were shaking, my thighs quivering. I pushed away suddenly to pull off my chemise. I was urgent to feel my breasts against his chest. They ached to feel his chest and I tossed the scrap of lace aside and looked down at my conquest. His dark eyes darted over me.

"You are a vision, a dream..." he murmured, his fingers tightening over my naked hips. I leaned my lips down to his and my nipples grazed him. Every sensation was incredibly pronounced, and my body arched and stretched under his smooth, callused hands as we kissed intimately. The heat I felt inside me just from kissing him made me so breathless. I could only imagine how overwhelming it would be when we dispensed with all the barriers between us.

And I was too impatient to wait any more.

I pushed the blankets under my knees and then pulled them down past his groin and left them resting on his thighs. If he wanted them off more, he could move them. He had covered his legs from me to start with, so I figured he didn't want me looking just now. It probably wouldn't make me feel all sexy anyway. But his large, aroused cock was making me feel very sexy.

He was very attracted to me.

I gave him my sultriest look, fluttering my lashes, and then took him into my mouth. I could actually feel his body pulsing and quivering as I licked and teased, stroked and sucked.

"Meghan," he was tugging on my arms, pulling me up towards him.

"I'm busy..." I growled playfully, but the desperate and angry look on his face stopped me.

"I want to actually get you pregnant." He growled right back as he finished hauling me up his body. My hands splayed on his muscled chest and I squirmed in delight at the feel of him against me. I let my fingers quickly explore his strong upper body.

"You're so muscular..." I purred as I rubbed his erect nipples.

"Meghan..." he sounded irritated, but before I could respond he shifted, lifted and slid himself inside me. He groaned something, but every one of my senses dimmed to nothing as my body accepted him. Our joining rippled through me, making me feel infinitely powerful and yet incredibly weak at the same time. I tried to think of how to help, but my mind was clouded with the feel of being one with him. I was such a mixture of emotions and feelings, that I could only hold him tightly, as he tentatively lifted and moved me with his arms and not his hips. My trembling lips sought his and I knew that words could never express something as precious as this earnest, heart-felt kiss in the middle of scheduled intercourse. I was changed. This was very serious for me now.

We were starting our family. I was living my dream...

"Camer-oh..." his name finished on a moan as he pushed me down and pulled me in to meet his hips. Our eyes met, heavy with thoughts and feelings and we silently figured out how to move each other, both unable to speak any helpful words. Only muffled grunts and soft moans echoed around us as he used his strong arms and hands to help shift my body up and down, over his. It was a careful, gentle dance and when he climaxed, he was buried deep inside me, holding me down tightly.

I was pretty sure I didn't orgasm, but my whole body was tingling, and at the moment, it was a little difficult to remember how to move, especially with how tight he was holding me. I had never enjoyed myself so much, during a sexual act. Compared to my other experiences, this was very tame and innocent, but I didn't mind in the slightest. I had felt our connection echo through my bones.

Cameron's fingers glided down my shoulder. "You are so beautiful, Meghan," he whispered into the heated air around us.

"I think you are beautiful too." I suddenly felt very shy and awkward and I dismounted from his lap to curl under the blankets. His eyes followed me and he rolled to his side, pushing a few of the pillows away. He smiled at me and though I returned the grin, it wobbled slightly. We finally made love. All of the pent up frission and smoldering looks had finally come to fruition, so why did I feel so sad?

It had been like nothing I'd ever felt. I'd wanted to impress him with my knowledge of how to please him, but ended up barely doing anything. I wasn't really sure what I could have done to impress him anyway. What we just did, was not just sex, and I don't know how I could have made it any better. It already had a tangible power to it when our bodies joined together. Like our joining was ordained by a higher power, like God rejoiced at our mating. It made me very hopeful that our joining would produce a baby.

I wondered if he felt the power too, that jolt of energy up the spine that crippled the brain. Maybe he couldn't feel it like I could. Or maybe he's felt this way before, so it's nothing new? Or maybe I was his first ever? I searched his face as he gazed at me.

I wanted him to hold me suddenly. I wanted him to reach for me so badly, that I know my face showed some pain that he wasn't already holding me and telling me how he loved me. He probably didn't love me at all. I was just an easy way for him to save his families' land. His brow furrowed as his fingers grazed my chin.

"What's wrong, beauty?" those chocolate orbs searched and I lowered my eyes.

"Nothing..." I felt too awkward to tell him, which was silly. You plan to marry him but you can't voice your concerns and say 'why don't you love me'?

"I know what it is." He sounded ashamed and I looked up curiously. "I did not fulfill you." My mouth opened, but what was I to say? The truth was as bad as a lie. Besides, he may not have coaxed an orgasm from me, but I'd never felt anything like what we'd just done together. If that wasn't fulfilling, then I didn't know what could be?

His hand slid over my bare shoulder, cupping it gently. "Do I get another chance?" His voice was lowered and husky and the sound of it made my stomach tighten in anticipation. I moved closer and tried to keep from squirming against him too much. I wanted more but maybe he couldn't...

"I thought the plan was to get me pregnant? You can't very well accomplish that if I don't give you another chance." He smiled.

"I was just checking that you were still interested..." he joked but I was not amused.

"Still interested?" I pulled the blankets up to cover more of my naked self and he noticed he'd upset me.

"Meghan..." he grabbed me and brought us eye to eye. "I'm not saying the right things. I'm a little out of sorts. I'm sorry I did not fulfill you. I promise next time will be better."

"That's not what matters..." I grumbled, our bodies were pressed now, his arms tight around me, holding me like he would never let go, but I was still upset.

"Tell me what? Please, Meghan. You are unhappy?" My lips trembled and I realized why I felt so much like crying.

"It's because I'm in love with you!" I blurted and then sniffed loudly. His hands paused and I spilled out the rest. "I love you, and you're not even mine to love. I just gave you my body, but it's as if, it's only on loan to you. You can just dump me when you're bored. You have no reason to follow through with your plan. We have no claims to each other. No one knows about us. You'll get sick of me and we'll part and no one will ever know how much I love you, and my heart..." I sniffed again, knowing my mouth was out of control, but I couldn't stop. "My heart will break into a thousand pieces and I'll just throw myself off the top of the opera house, because you've ruined me, Cameron Inninbalm. I'm forever ruined because I don't want to ever love anyone but you!" Tears were falling down my cheeks by the time I got it all out and Cameron tried to hold me tight, but I scrubbed at my cheeks, annoyed with my emotional outburst.

"Well..." Cameron gently took one of my scrubbing hands and brought it to his lips. "I see you are quite upset, but we do have a claim on each other." He took my face in his hands. "Our love is our claim." I searched his face as his eyes bored into mine. "You know that I love you as well, Meghan."

"How do I know that? Because you told me so? Do you really love me, or do you just want me? Do you just want to make me pregnant?"

"Why would I give a child to a woman I didn't love?"

"Because you need one?" I was an emotional tidal wave, crashing all over him. "Maybe it's not really love. Maybe your love is as transferable as your seed!"

"What?" he was starting to get angry. "That's absurd."

"So now I'm absurd?"

"That is not what I meant."

"Well, figure out what you mean and when you do, let me know." I rolled away from him and curled up into a tight ball. I sobbed quietly into the pillow for a painful minute, while nothing moved on the bed. Part of me wanted to huff off and make him chase me, but I knew that it would be hard for him to chase me, and I didn't want to _not_ be chased. My heart was lost to him, one hundred percent. It was why I stayed right there in his bed, hoping that he would feel bad and say soothing words to me. Why couldn't he feel anything for me? Wasn't I desirable?

He was suddenly sliding himself towards me and he curled tightly behind me, putting an arm around my waist and the other under my pillow. His breath was warm and comforting on my neck, and he buried his nose there to inhale deeply.

"I'm sorry, buttercup," he kissed my neck lightly. "I'm a cad."

"I know," I pouted and sniffed. "But for some reason I still love you."

"Which makes me the luckiest cad alive," he whispered, nuzzling behind my ear. "I want you, Meghan." His hand trailed over my naked hip and my stomach jumped with desire. "I want to give you a child, this is all true. But I also want to marry you and bring you home to show you off to anyone and everyone who is interested. I want to grow old with you and laugh with you and watch you dancing in a meadow with our children..."

He paused and I refrained from saying anything snippy, snappy, stupid or otherwise. "It was awful of me to ask you to bed first, but I wasn't even sure I was capable of intercourse..." He shook his head against me. "Now that I know I can love you as a man is meant to love his wife, now that I know I can...Will you marry me, Meghan?" he whispered across the skin of my back and my heart stopped.

"What?" I turned around and gaped down at him.

His lips pulled into a dashing smile, "I said..." he started but I cut him off.

"I heard you, you imbecile, what I don't understand is...your plan...I mean...I might not be pregnant from one time."

He reached up and touched my cheek, tucking hair behind my ear, with a content, peaceful expression on his face. "We can work on it."

"I'm confused," my brow furrowed down and he pulled me onto his chest.

"I love you. I want you. Will you marry me? It's rather simple."

"But it's not simple," I rested my head on his forehead. "You need to have a child..."

"If I don't get you pregnant we can figure out something. We could adopt an unwanted child as our own." My heart was speeding up at the firm decision in his eyes.

"My mother will go nuts if we tell her we are getting married."

"I'm not so sure, I've been working on her, and besides, would she oppose us if she knew you loved me?" he sounded surprised.

"I don't know," I sighed, not at all comfortable with the thought of telling Maman I loved Cameron, and cuddled to him. "We are insane, Cameron. What are we doing?" I was so confused and still wound up from our planned love making. I'd accepted his strange proposal to impregnate me first, which gave us time to be certain of one another, but now he had made sweet, simple, earth shattering, scheduled love to me and was changing the rules abruptly by asking to marry me!

"Cuddling?" he made another joke and I huffed and snuggled into him. His chest was very muscular and I let my fingertips explore slowly. He smelled good too, his clean masculine scent was all around me here in his bed. He was definitely something I could enjoy thoroughly everyday of my life. "You still haven't answered my question," he spoke softly. I didn't know what to say. My heart screamed to say yes and then dance around the room in excitement, but I could only think of my mother. How could I leave her alone? But then she encouraged me to give Cameron a chance. Could she want this for me?

"I want to say yes..." I whispered.

"But?" he sounded afraid and slightly offended and I looked up with a worried frown.

"My answer is yes. Definitely yes." I took his face in my hands. "I want to marry you, Cameron." He started to smile and I finished my sentence, "But we have to tip toe around Maman. I need to break it to her slowly." He cupped my face in both his hands as well.

"Whatever you need to do, sweetling. I was a complete idiot for not just asking you before." Now it was my turn to smile daftly.

"Before when exactly?"

"The moment I laid eyes on you." Warmth spread through me and soon the grin was cracking my face.

"Where's my ring then?" He laughed and pulled me down for a kiss.

"In my smoking room."

"What? You mean you actually have a ring for me?" I couldn't believe how happy I felt. "Let's run and get it!" My face froze at my words and I buried my face in his neck. "Sorry..."

He chuckled, "No harm done." His tone was light, but I could hear the disappointment buried deep.

"I don't need to see it yet anyway," I tried to make amends. "If I see it, I'll want to wear it and never take it off and I can't wear it until we fix things up with Maman."

"And we will." He was determined. I lay in his arms quietly, thinking to myself that this handsome man would be my husband. I would have to take care of him for the rest of his life, but I could feel how deeply I loved him and I knew our life would be happy together. "What are you thinking of?"

"Being your wife," I replied wistfully.

"Will you be a good obedient wife?"

"No," I snorted and he held me tightly as he laughed.

"Good. I don't want obedience..." he trailed off and I felt like he had something to say.

"What do you want, Cameron?"

"Besides you and your graceful body..." his hand slid down to cup my backside and I propped myself up and gave him a look. He smiled but it faded and his face took on that serious polite mask. "Maybe you should pull the blankets back and look at the rest of me." He looked slightly worried, I could see it in the depths of his eyes and I wanted to make a jest to lighten that heavy look, but I restrained myself.

"It won't change my mind," I tried to assure him.

"Have a look." He was tense now, and as I slowly pulled back the blankets, he kept up a monologue about his illness. "It started with pains in my leg muscles which tend to get ignored, but since my grandfather had the same illness, I knew it was coming. The muscles start to shrink and eventually become useless." My heart squeezed to see his leg bones so very pronounced beneath his skin. I wondered if our children would be afflicted by the same illness, and I immediately thought of Erik, and wondered if he had discovered something to cure Cameron yet.

"Do you exercise your legs?" I asked, trying to show that I wasn't completely dense when it came to his ailment.

"My grandmother usually helps me." His eyes were intense with emotion when I finally met them. I could tell his insides were all over the place because it's exactly how mine felt at the moment.

"I'll learn how to help you," I laid out next to him, our naked bodies on display to the room, and kissed his lips gently. He sighed softly and slid his arms around me. My insides flipped and flopped as we stared into each other's eyes while our bodies pressed intimately.

"Will you dance for me now?" his voice was low and seemed to tremble over my skin. I slid away from him and began to slide off the bed.

"Naked?" I asked with a fluttery look over one shoulder.

"Whichever you prefer?" His grin was lop-sided, and I got to watch his stomach muscles bunch as he pulled himself into a sitting position and covered his lower half with the blankets.

"I prefer to have music," I pouted playfully with my hands on my hips, my body exposed for him alone.

"I will have a bed made up in the music room next time." His eyes seemed to darken and I felt my stomach quivering. I swayed my hips as I bent to pickup the discarded chemise and I shrugged into the delicate lace. I glanced at him over my shoulder, wondering if he would look at me differently now. His eyes were burning with heat and I knew I would have to ignore his feverishly dark eyes if I was going to actually dance. I slowly turned on one foot as I noted where all the furniture was located.

I started humming and then twirled around Cameron's large bedroom. His true proposal to me was still fresh in my mind. We would be married regardless. No child necessary. He wanted me, for me. My heart was soaring on wings of love and his husky voice cut through my dancing reverie.

"Meghan, my love..." I spun to a stop and began twirling fingers through my loose hair. "Enough dancing," he swallowed and those dark eyes beckoned to me. "Come to bed, my darling. I want to touch you."

A smile curled my lips as I crawled onto his bed.

**Christine**

It all felt like a dream. The carriage that was waiting for me, the rose inside on the seat, the tailor hopping around me, looking for approval. It was a fairytale dream.

I was staring at my image in the mirror, but I was transformed into a radiant, white, princess bride. The satin dress hugged my torso and arms like a second skin. It scooped around my neck to gracefully display my collarbones, and the intricate beaded lace around my waist showed just how tiny my waist really was. The skirt was amazing. It looked like I was embedded in a cloud. The delicate tulle was tufted and pinned up randomly down the full volumous skirt, with little twinkling beads scattered like raindrops. I kept turning from side to side to see every single, sparkling angle.

"Mlle Daae?" Monsieur Benoit was looking worried, but his wife, who had helped me into the dress, was smiling knowingly.

"It's...it's like a dream." I could feel tears pricking my eyes as I imagined Erik seeing me in the dress and then later, helping me out of the dress. "I love it."

M. Benoit exhaled visibly and Mrs. Benoit came forward to fluff the skirt. "A one of a kind design," she fussed and fluffed. "Your maid was very intuitive to design this for you."

The reminder of Meg brought me back down to earth. Her vibrant orange dress was hanging off to the side. It looked spectacular as well but she wasn't here to try it on. "Meghan has a flare all her own." I responded and M. Benoit stepped forward.

"Is there enough room to move." He tugged at the waist of the dress. "You should try sitting in it." I obeyed all of the tailor's requests and he had a few minor adjustments to make. He promised to have it done for next week, which meant Erik and I could be married next weekend.

I was ridiculously excited and once I climbed out of the dress and donned my clothing, I came out into the sitting room to find Erik waiting for me. My over excitment had me running to him to throw my arms about him.

He caught me and a smile was playing with his lips behind the hard white mask. I noted that the Benoits were very still behind me.

"I love it, Erik, and I know you will love it too. But you have to wait a few more days." I touched his nose playfully, to try to show the couple that there was nothing to fear from Erik, and the smile curled the corner of his mouth up.

"You are happy then?"

"If I was any more happy, I would burst." Erik's eyes left mine to look at the Benoits behind me and he turned me onto his arm expertly while nodding his head at the couple.

"Thank you for your efforts. When will the dress be complete?"

"Monday." M. Benoit assured us nervously.

"Does she need to try it on again?"

"It is preffered, to ensure no mistakes. Her maid could come with her then?"

"I will arrange it. Good day." Erik steered me out of the store and I smiled and said thank you as we left.

In the carriage I snuggled to his side happily. "I thought you were working today." Cameron had gone away for a few days and Erik was the only management at the opera.

"I didn't want you alone for too long." He was cupping the curve of my waist in one long hand and it was easy to turn my face to his.

"I love you," I whispered, before pressing his lips with mine. His arms wound around me and the mask rubbed against my face. I touched the ring on my finger as Erik's tongue traced into my mouth and my dream continued, in the form of my every day life.

**Meg**

I rolled and stretched in the huge, luxurious bed and then propped myself up on my elbows to see Cameron beside me. He wasn't in bed and just as a frown started to crease my face he came out of his dressing and bathing room, in his robe and chair, and saw me awake.

"Good morning, buttercup." He smiled for me and even after last night, my stomach still went all fluttery for him.

"Hello, you," a knowing smile curled my lips as he wheeled himself to the bed.

"I almost rolled over your dress," his eyebrow was arching in disapproval and I flopped onto my stomach so I could be closer to him.

"Oops, did I not hang it up?" I propped my chin on a fist and grinned at him in a completely besotted manner.

"It was in the middle of the floor." His fingers trailed down my cheek. I changed the subject.

"How did you get out of bed by yourself?" He shrugged lightly.

"If my chair is close enough I just fall out of bed."

"And if I want you back in bed?" I tugged lightly on his hand and gave him a sultry look.

"Later, my turtle dove," he kissed my hand and turned it over to trace the lines in my palm. "Breakfast will be here shortly."

"I get breakfast in bed?" His grip on my hand tightened.

"_Not_ in the bed." The severe tone of his voice matched the quick, hard, anger in his eyes.

"I get it, no crumbs." I replied quickly, and loftily, to temper the mood change, and pried my hand away. I rolled off the bed easily to reach for my overnight bag. My wrapper was stowed inside so I could cover myself. Though I knew I was coming here to have intercourse with him, I didn't want to feel like his whore and just hang about naked all day. I gratefully slipped into some covering, thinking how strange it was that I could feel so comfortable with him one moment and so uncomfortable the next. I wanted things to keep going smoothly for me, so I ignored him to get out my hairbrush. Christine always lectured me about caring for my hair. She was quite diligent about tying up her long curly hair at night and encouraged me to do the same. I started brushing out my hair and left Cameron to stew in his juices. Something about breakfast in bed had darkened his mood considerably and if he wasn't comfortable enough to share it with me, then I was just going to ignore that I'd witnessed anything.

Just as I was tying a ribbon around all my neatly brushed hair there was a knock at his bedroom door. It made my heart beat rapidly because what we were doing was so scandalous. I thought about hiding in the dressing room, but I heard footsteps leaving the hall.

"Our breakfast," he opened the door and revealed a cart of hot food, fruit, coffee, juice and other things I couldn't see yet. I glanced around for somewhere to sit and saw a table and chair close to the door that did not match his bedroom decor. I made sure he was managing the cart, which he was, and then sat primly in the chair that he'd brought into his room for the occasion of our mating.

Why I felt more nervous now then I did last night was beyond me. Did I think that an impression here would ruin what we'd already decided? Did I think if I chewed with my mouth open he would be disgusted and break our tentative engagement?

I tried to channel Christine as I poured us both some coffee. I handed a cup to Cameron and he took it, but also grabbed my hand. His brow was furrowed.

"I'm sorry, Meghan." He searched my face and I was going to shrug and say whatever, but he pressed my hand to his cheek and closed his eyes. "My grandfather...He wouldn't even get out of bed anymore. He said he couldn't, but I never believed him. I thought he was giving up."

I bit my lip hard, not sure what to say, as Cameron continued. "He may have been telling the truth. Maybe one day I won't even be able to get out of bed..."

"Hush dumpling," I touched his lips to stop the flow of words. "I promise I'll drag you out of bed every morning." I wondered if I should tell him that I had Erik searching for a cure, but I decided against doing so. I didn't want him to get his hopes up. I sat across from him and eyed the cart of food. There was enough here to feed us all day and as soon as I thought of that, I let my eyes roam over Cameron. Was that his plan? To stay in here with me all day?

I hid my smile behind my cup. I wanted nothing more than to get back into bed with him. No one had ever touched me like he did. He was so gentle and tender, and yet very eager. The combination made me feel incredibly special. If I wasn't his first ever, then I was certainly his first since the loss of his legs. Every move had been an exploration of what we could do together and how to manage the positions. I started to squirm as I recalled how he'd gently coaxed me to brain melting completion with the touch of his callused fingers and his mouth on my neck.

"You should eat something," he ordered gently as he took a yummy looking muffin off a tray of baked goods.

"I'm not hungry." I was hungry, but when he ordered me around it made me feel like a child. I suppose I was a child since I always responded with defiance.

Cameron took a bite of his breakfast and chewed, as his eyes roamed over my face and down my neck to my chest, down the rest of my body to my bare toes. His eyes casually made their way back up, much darker than before. "I am planning to take you back to bed until supper time, so you better eat something to keep up your energy."

Well, when he put it that way...I took a croissant and pulled it apart, sending crumbs everywhere, before popping a bite in my mouth. It was the best croissant I'd ever eaten and I moaned at the buttery flavor.

"This is so good," I made sure to swallow before talking.

"I employ a very talented kitchen staff." We were eating and having light conversation. So far, so good.

"I remember from the dinners, they were amazing. I should have thought to thank them before." I know Christine would have thanked the staff if possible.

"They are paid for their expertise." Cameron dismissed his help, "No need to thank them. Actually, thank you for reminding me. You will be having dinner with Grandmama tonight before returning to the opera house."

"Oh? Where will you be?"

"Hiding in here. I am supposed to be in Bordeaux," he was looking at me with an amused expression.

"I see," though I didn't fully see. "So, Clotilda is coming home today?" I was suddenly worried we would be found.

"Tonight, around seven. You will have dinner with her, since I will be gone," he smiled cheekily. "And then my carriage can take you back to the opera house. If your mother ever asks Grandmama how your visit was, she will have something to say instead of 'what visit'."

I kept eating because I didn't have any comment. Cameron was very clever and had planned all of this, seemingly flawlessly. I would have to remember just how smart and devious he could be, and give him the same in return. The thought of his elaborate plans made me realize that he'd probably already planned out my entire life as well.

"I have a question." One that had been burning inside me since last night when us two became one. His mouth was full, but he made a noise as if to continue. "Will you let me dance at the opera once we are married?"

"Until you become pregnant, you may still dance."

I sipped on my bitter coffee, "And after I have a child?"

"Who will watch our child if you are busy dancing?"

"You, or a nanny?"

"I don't think you should have a part if you are a mother." He was starting to frown and my eyes drifted around the decadent room.

"That's what I thought." One dream begins as the other ends.

"Perhaps you could perform in those medley performances Erik and I have been tossing around, but no steady roles."

I nodded noncommittally. All my life, all I wanted was to be a dancer, like Maman, but she kept me from it for so long, because she wanted better for me. I finally got to dance, only after almost dying, and now it would be taken from me again. I was so happy when I danced, so free, but I suppose my life would have another type of happiness now and I should embrace that happiness instead of mourn the loss of my dancing.

"I'm sorry, Meg." His voice was mournful, as if he was picking up on my mood. "This is one of the reasons I did not want to pursue you. You were born to dance. I see it. You are a force on that stage. No man, woman, or child can peel his eyes from you when you dance, but to marry me is to be shackled to me. I will always need your help and you will always have to care for me and for our children..."

"Shhh," I giggled and slid off my chair to kneel in front of him. "Let's go back to being shackled to you?" I grinned impishly and parted his robe. He closed the robe with a serious expression.

"Are you always so carefree?" He was trying to see into my head and I shrugged and got back into my chair.

"Free as a_ bird_," I joked.

"Meghan..."

"Isn't it one of the reasons you love me?" I smiled and batted my lashes at him. He went still and silent and just stared at me with a sad expression on his face. "Well?" I prompted.

"It is and I do." His solemn gaze turned to the cart and he glanced over it, looking for something. He pulled out a small box and my heart jerked in my chest. "This is for you." He opened the box to reveal the multi stoned ring. My mouth dropped open. "I know you have to hide it from your mother for now, but I wanted you to have it, so you know that I mean my vow. I will have you as my wife, Meghan Giry. For now, you can wear it to bed at night, and think of me."

I was trembling as I reached out for the box. He slipped the ring out of its nest and turned my hand to slide it on my finger. "Will you share your life with me, Meghan?"

"Yes, Cameron," I made sure to answer quickly, unlike the last time he asked, and then I was speechless, which is odd for me. I stared at the sparkling ring. I knew the clear stone in the middle was a diamond but there was a dark blue one and a dark red one, a light green one, an orange one and a purple one too. Everything was encased in gold and this ring was far different from Maman's simple gold band that Father had given her. I raised my eyes to look at the rich man I'd captured. He looked sad still and I knelt in front of him and took his hands.

"Will you marry me?" I asked with a flourish. His lips twitched.

"What are you playing at? You know the answer to that question."

"I thought that one of us should kneel, to make the proposal official, and then we could go to bed and seal it with incredible sex."

He couldn't help smiling at me and he helped me up and pulled me into his lap. "In case you were wondering," he kissed me hard. "I love you."

"I love you too dumpling." I nuzzled his face and he grimaced.

"Dumpling? Is that the best you can come up with?" Triumph thrilled through me that my little plan to give him a horrid pet name had worked.

"You have no say in the pet names I choose to call you." I tossed my ponytail over my shoulder with a haughty air and he laughed out loud.

"I suppose I had that coming." I twined my arms around his neck.

"There is plenty more coming your way..." I tried to sound seductive. His hands encircled my waist and then slid to my rear end to give it a light spank.

"Breakfast first, you temptress." I pouted playfully but obeyed his command. We ate small bowls of porridge with butter and berries, finished our pastries and coffee, and shared an orange. I helped him back onto the bed and quickly visited the bathroom. I looked at myself in the large mirror and saw the permanent smile etched onto my face.

I held out my hand to appreciate the ring and it sparkled like an entire rainbow of jewels. I shrugged out of my wrapper and noticed that my dress had been hung neatly beside some of his clothing. I tossed my wrapper on the ground in rebellion, but out of the way of where I thought he might roll, and then entered the room comfortably naked.

Cameron's eyes followed my every move as I twirled to the bed and climbed on.

"Is it finally time for the incredible sex?" I whispered as I crawled towards him.

"Yes." He pulled me onto him and took my mouth eagerly, his hands sliding over my body, as my heart, body and mind cheered, yes, yes, oh Cameron, yes.


	62. Truth

**Christine**

When I arrived at warm up Friday morning, there was a small crowd of men already sitting in the audience section. By now I recognized a few of the faces and smiled and nodded my head their way before Meg rushed up to me.

"Oh my GOD! Where were you last night? I pounded on your door, for like, half an hour! I have something to tell you." She looked like she was going to burst with joy.

"What? What is it?" I couldn't help smiling with her as I searched her face for clues. She darted her eyes around us.

"Not here. Later," she whispered and then skipped away to join the other dancers. I hated when she did this to me, got me all wound up and then left me wanting. I sighed and nodded at Piangi and Thomas, who was carrying himself just a little more confidently now that he had been offered the prestigious position of stage manager.

"Good morning, everyone, let's get started." Reyer called from the pit and raised his hands for the music. We warmed up and ran through a few songs and then we allowed the dancers to warm up thoroughly. Just as rehearsal was winding down, Cameron came in, back from his business trip and Monsieur DeChangy was with him. He hobbled in with a cane and his leg in a cast and I remembered Raoul saying he'd broken his leg.

They sat in the audience and Cameron smiled at me. I waved back discreetly and he inclined his head towards his companion. I wasn't really sure what he was trying to tell me, but I figured I would go speak to them once we were finished.

I approached them after Reyer called an end to our warm up and patrons were mixing casually with the cast.

"Mlle Daae," Cameron smiled at me and he seemed very relaxed and happy today. Not that he wasn't usually, but today his eyes had a sparkle to them. His business in Bordeaux must have gone well. "M. DeChangy asked me to arrange a meeting with you."

I thought it was strange that M. DeChangy would ask Cameron for that, but I only smiled. "You are back sooner then we all thought."

"Things wrapped up quickly," he grinned boyishly and it was not the first time that I thought to myself how dashing Cameron was. He inclined his head, "I'll let you speak." Cameron left us and I stepped forward and hugged M. DeChangy. He looked more elderly today then I remember him looking just a few months ago.

"How have you been? I heard of your accident and sent prayers your way for a speedy recovery." I gave him a winning smile and he tried to smile with me.

"I am doing better, but I'm afraid I have come, not to visit, but to question you." He looked slightly ashamed and I gestured to the chairs.

"Let's sit. What has happened?" He looked stressed and I sat next to him worriedly.

"Do you know where my son is?" His eyes were sad and hopeful and I felt my heart stopping.

"Raoul?"

DeChangy nodded. "I haven't seen him in weeks. I thought maybe he was only cross with me but he never stays away for this long. He has not been home since new year's eve."

I tried not to show anything on my face but now my heart was racing. That was the night of Erik's little meeting with Raoul and my traitorous brain conjured thoughts that were not very sympathetic to Erik.

"Why would I know where..." I didn't even finish my question.

"He loves you, Christine. He's obsessed with you. He couldn't stay away. I haven't been completely truthful with you." He looked down. "Your father wanted Raoul to marry you, but I would not allow my son to. I should have handled things differently. I'm sorry."

That was fine with me. "I have a fiancee." I reminded him.

"I'm glad of it. If you weren't spoken for I think Raoul might have taken you by force. I was helpless to stop him, he was so determined to do as your father asked."

I patted his hand as my mind raced. Did I know everything that happened that night? It was possible that I did not and I feverishly wished that Erik was here to reassure me that I did.

**Meg**

I was impatiently waiting for Christine to finish up with Monsieur DeChangy, and could hear Marie bragging behind me. She was describing an elaborate embrace with a tender lover and my curiosity was peaked, until I heard the name Cameron. My heart froze as she went on about how strong his arms were and what a good kisser he was. My heart quickly thawed so the blood could start to boil. Why she would make these things up was beyond me, but the fact that she persisted weeks later, after it was proven false, was making me very angry. Cameron was mine, but she was the one telling everyone about his strong, muscular arms and nimble tongue.

My teeth were going to crack if I wasn't careful. I closed my eyes, counted to twenty and promised myself that Marie would get an earful from me. As soon as she left the theater, I cornered her in the hallway.

"What is wrong with you? Making up stories about Comte Inninbalm?"

"Who? Cameron?" I wanted to slap her face the way she said his name, with a tiny smile, as her lashes fluttered.

"Are you on a first name basis with him then?" I crossed my arms unconvinced and Marie nodded cheekily.

"I consider being intimate to put you on a first name basis. Especially when certain things happen." Her eyebrows waggled playfully and her smile was satisfaction itself. I felt sick.

"When?" I was choking on the truth. "When did it happen again?" I tried to make my questions seem less desperate.

"New year's eve...are you alright, Meg?" she touched me gently. "You don't look well."

"I don't feel well." I wanted to cry. I thought of the ring under my pillow and the name, Meghan Inninbalm, scrawled only once, on a scrap of paper. Damn you, Cameron.

"Are you...oh...Meghan?" Marie suddenly gasped and I wondered what she was going on about now. I wasn't really noticing her anymore as my vision blurred and my heart cracked, and then I felt the tears drip off my face. "Why didn't you tell me you liked him? I would have backed off. I would have told him no." Her arm was around me and I thought about shoving her, but I had no energy to. She was one of the nicer girls.

"I don't like him." I denied her the pleasure, knowing my emotions for Cameron ran more towards love. I didn't want to feel sad and sappy so I did push Marie's hands away.

"I'm sorry, Meg. If you had your sights on him, you should have told us!" She was right. It was how we usually kept from encroaching on others men.

"Julie was being a cow about it, so I didn't want to tell everyone."

"I'm so sorry, Meg, nothing except kissing happened, I swear. The other stuff I said was a lie. You can even ask Monsieur Karan. He interrupted for their meeting and Cameron sent me on my way. I swear that's the real truth." Her eyes were begging my forgiveness and I sent her away, as my focus turned to the betrayal by my so called friend. I didn't want to think about how Cameron had betrayed me. I didn't want to think about what this fling with Marie meant. Was I his second choice?

It was much easier to be angry with Erik. I tromped down the hall to Christine's room and pounded on the door. She didn't answer and I almost snarled in rage. Erik did not tell me about Cameron and Marie. He directly violated our friendship and I wanted blood.

I found Christine in the theater still, sitting with Raoul's broken up father. I kept my distance, not wanting to intrude on something that looked to be quite depressing. I searched the rest of the theater from my post in the wings and saw Cameron speaking to a few patrons.

My foot was tapping in an irritating manner and I turned heel and walked away. I would be having a talk with my dear little dumpling as well, but first I needed to get ready.

**Erik**

I was supposed to be at the opera but I needed to help Bernard install the door to Christine's house. I was rapidly running out of time and it was only warm up, so I didn't feel too bad, even though I knew that Cameron would have attended. As I made my way back to the opera, I knew rehearsal was long over, so I went to the office to see if Cameron was back yet, before continuing onto Christine's room to relax with her before the performance. Instead, I came across a fuming Meg, waiting in the office. Actually, a book crashed into the wall as I pushed open the door.

"You!" Her face pressed into vibrantly angry lines and she advanced on me. "You betrayed me!" She pointed at me with a shaking finger. "You let me trust him! Now he's played me..." her voice cracked and her face trembled. "I'm such a fool..." She dissolved into tears and I was stunned immobile by the sudden wrath and crushing pain of Meghan Giry. "Why didn't you warn me, Erik?" she sobbed. "You're supposed to save me from these mistakes. I should have known, I should have trusted my gut, but you...you knew he was a...a..." She was so hurt she couldn't speak and it was just as much my doing as Cameron's.

"Meghan," I realized I had no wise words, no easy explanation. She was right. I betrayed her in favor of Cameron and now I felt like a heel. "I'm sorry," I spoke softly, hoping that she would accept my simple apology. I was terrible at being her friend.

"So it's all true? She was on his lap, kissing him?" Meg swallowed hard and I nodded.

"He doesn't want her though, he wants you."

"I know that!" She growled at me and crossed her arms. "But I want a faithful man."

"He promised me he would be from now on." She gave me a strange look.

"Talking and doing are two different things." She sniffed loudly, but her tears were already done.

"I have told him time and again, that if I see you crying, he will answer to me. Do you wish for me to seek revenge for you, Meghan? I will." I stepped close to her, eager to mend our broken friendship. She rolled her eyes at me.

"Relax, Erik," she sighed and her shoulders sagged. "I can't be mad at you. Not when it's Cameron who deserves my anger." She stepped close and put her arms around me, sagging against me in total comfort. "Should l forgive him?"

I patted her awkwardly. "What do you feel?" I had no clue what to tell her.

"I love him," she whispered brokenly and then pushed away. "He has some explaining to do, but I love him and I want him to be mine."

I looked down at Meg's determined blue eyes, about to encourage her to do just that, and noticed the slim gold band on her finger.

"Has something occurred that I am not aware of?" I picked up her hand quickly, and felt a cluster of jewels with my fingertip before she yanked her hand away, shoving them both behind her back with a grin.

"Nothing to see! None of your business!" She gave me a pointed look and then glanced down the hall. "I want to have a private chat with Cameron. Could you get him for me?"

What else could I do, but my friend's bidding? I found him in the theater and let him know that he was needed in the office. I warned him to watch for objects flying at his head.

Then I turned to the man who had obviously kept Christine from returning to her room to rest before her performance. I extricated her from his blubbering company and thanked him for coming and hussled my woman away.

"What did he want?" I whispered as we made our way to her room.

"His son back," she answered simply and guilt washed over me.

"Impossible, the boy will never be the same brat that he was. I changed him forever."

"He's gone, Erik." Her voice was a breath in the air. "He never went home. His father has been searching all over Paris, no one knows where he could be..."

I kept my mouth shut until we entered her room, and then I started to snicker. It was horrible of me to laugh when Christine was so worried.

"He never went home?" I asked between laughs and Christine crossed her arms.

"It's hardly something to laugh over. His poor father is worried sick!"

"Let him worry!" My laughter was gone. "The man tried to keep us apart, or have you forgotten so easily. Besides," I stepped close. "This _is_ Raoul we are speaking of. I still owe him tenfold for all the pain he caused you. If I want to laugh at his sudden disappearance, I will laugh."

She deflated and sat on her bed. "What if M. DeChangy involves the police? Will they be led to us and you?"

"Not in a million years." I reassured my little worrier. "Raoul has most likely joined the navy."

**Meg**

I fidgetted all over the office, unable to sit still or even plan out what I would say when Cameron finally showed up. I'd done my hair nicely and made sure I looked very presentable. The ring that he gave me felt strange turned backwards but it was easier to hide this way. It was imperative that I have it available to throw in his face if the explanation called for such action. As much as I really truly hoped it never came to that...

He knocked on his own office door and I decided to not throw a book or his ring. I crossed my arms, so I wouldn't be tempted to put them around him, and glared.

He came in silently, his eyes assessing my every tension. "You needed to see me, darling?"

"Is that what you called Marie too?" I snapped, hoping for a good reaction.

"Not ever once," he never even flinched.

"How could you, Cameron?" I felt like I was coming apart. I wanted to be mad, and yell and throw things, but now that he was before me, I wanted to kiss him until he smiled and then peel his shirt off to explore his muscular chest. But he wasn't so particular in his choice. He just needed anyone, and I fell right into place for him. Stupid, gullible, child that I was.

"Please sit down, Meghan." I stomped my foot.

"I don't want to sit!"

"Sit down!" He demanded loudly, his eyes boring into mine. "I will speak to you eye to eye and not have you hunching over me."

I sucked in air and blew it out a few times, trying to calm myself down. He had every right to his request, seeing as he couldn't very well stand up, and I sat as primly as I could across from him. He quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist. Cold metal clanged together and I gaped down at the manacle that bound me to the arm of the chair. He sat back in his wheelchair and visibly exhaled.

I couldn't even form a response to being locked to a chair. Where the heck did he get this thing? Does he just carry it around, waiting for a chance to use it?

"Now we can finish this without you running off and making a bigger deal then need be." He was, oh, so calm and my blood sizzled. I pulled against my bonds.

"How dare you!" Even standing was awkward with my arm strapped down the way it was and I was forced to sit across from him, angry as a banshee.

"I recall you have a tendency to over react to things, kicking chairs and apparently throwing books now?"

"Your _behavior_ has warranted those reactions," I growled at him.

"I see you are wearing my ring," he changed the subject. "Does that mean you still love me, Meghan?" His brown eyes were softening into the puppy dog look and I struggled to remember why I was mad at him.

"My love is not so easily forgotten and shoved aside. Is yours?" I quipped and then tugged on the manacle angrily.

"You cannot get free without the key, which I am not handing over until you give me a chance to explain."

I couldn't even cross my arms in this position, which really annoyed me, so I had to just sit nicely and listen. "So talk."

"Marie meant nothing to me."

I rolled my eyes and looked away, but my lips trembled at his easy admittance to betrayal. How easy would it be for him to say those words with my name in there?

"I am sorry something so insignificant has hurt you so greatly. I never want to hurt you, Meghan." He touched my hand and I flinched away, my pain bubbling to the surface.

"How am I supposed to know if that's not what you say to some other girl about me? Am I an insignificant something?" I would not cry. "Where does the truth begin, Cameron?"

"The truth?" his brow furrowed dramatically. "What are you talking about?"

"You're so good at lying," I know I sneered when I said this, "I can't even tell when it's the truth you speak."

"Every moment in my bedroom with you was the absolute truth. I want you and I love you. Because of that, I have spoken nothing _but_ the truth to you."

"Says you," I grumbled and his eyes flashed.

"I locked you to a bloody chair so you would have to listen to me, but you are not listening to me. I want to marry _you_, Meghan, no one else." I snorted in disbelief and his face went exasperated. "Look at your ring, for Christ's sake! Why can't you believe me?" He looked as hurt as I felt and I spilled out my anger.

"Because I found out you were in this room, with Marie on your lap, and you lied to my face about it!"

"I never lied to you," he shook his head, "I just never answered your question." I couldn't remember his exact words and I felt my anger leak out of me. I only remembered the feeling of relief and the ecstasy of kissing him. He may be lying to me now, but if I was never going to trust him then why was I wearing his ring at all?

"Why didn't you come get me if you wanted a dancer on your lap?" I was almost whining. He looked down at his knees.

"I couldn't..."

"Please tell me the truth," I begged shamelessly and noticed him stiffen slightly. He could tell me he was horny and drunk and I would forgive him, I just wanted the why. Why her and not me if he loved me so much? He was silent for a few minutes, fighting with what to say.

"I wanted to test myself, before I was intimate with you. I wanted to see if I could become aroused. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of you."

My metal clunked against the chair as I shifted. I could see how he might want to find out for sure before committing to that course of action with me, but that didn't mean it was alright. "And?" Forgive and forget, he is yours now. Forgive and forget...

His eyes lifted and they were embarrassed, but deep down they burned for me. "Only you rouse my blood."

My blood made a dash for my face and I flushed darkly at his wanting gaze.

"Meghan," he touched my hand again and this time I didn't pull away. "I never want to kiss any lips but yours for as long as I live. No lips could ever match your sweet ambrosia." His fingertips grazed my jaw, "I will never even look at another woman because the only one I want is wearing my ring, and the sight of that is enough to sustain me for the rest of my life." He turned the ring so the jewels glimmered on my knuckle and our fingers laced together. His eyes lifted and though I'd always known he was a smooth talker, I didn't feel like he was playing me. There was too much panic in his eyes as the tips of his fingers slid delicately down my neck. "You make me feel like a desperate man, desperate to have you, desperate to show you everything about me, desperate to make you mine, and desperate for you not to know just how desperate I am." His fingers were sliding around my neck and I wanted to melt into his embrace.

"Desperate enough to lock me to a chair apparently." I murmured sweetly.

"Yes," he breathed out. "I can't lose you, Meg. I don't want to live life without you."

"If you are ever unfaithful to me..." I needed to lay down the ground rules to my dream life.

"It will never happen. This broken body belongs to you alone." Now that he'd said the word desperate, I could really see it in his eyes, but I didn't want him afraid, sad or desperate.

"Cameron," I sat forward and combed my free hand through his hair. "Your body is not broken, it works just fine." I was talking about an appendage other than his legs, but he was sad now.

"I'll never walk beside you, I'll never throw you over my shoulder or swing you into my arms, I'll never dance with you..."

"Cameron, stop." I brought our faces together and kissed him, longing for him to be happy. He made a noise in his throat and held my face tightly in both hands. My head swam as he kissed me hard, and I instinctively tried to hold him but was still restrained.

"Can you unlock me?"

"Can you forgive me?"

"Let me show you," I nuzzled his face and pecked his cheek over and over, while he fished out the key from his jacket and dropped the manacle from my wrist. I crawled straight into his lap, wanting to claim it as mine, and coiled my arms around his neck. "This is my seat," I stated firmly as I stared into his deep, dark eyes.

He nodded, looking very much like a grateful puppy dog, before devouring my mouth with unbound devotion.

**Christine**

Meg was a whirlwind later that evening. She talked so fast that I had trouble keeping up with what she was saying. The huge ring sparkled gayly on her hand and she was so happy that I was grinning with her. I was a little confused about Cameron being here but away, until I realized it was a ploy to get my friend alone and her mother unsuspecting. Cameron was as devious and cunning as my Erik. But whereas Erik would slip a tiny hint into a situation, Cameron laid a false rug of exquisite style. I only hoped that rug was never tugged out from under Meghan.

"When he asked me to marry him I thought I was hearing things, or maybe I'd fallen into a dream..." her eyes took on a dreamy stare and I pulled her down to sit with me.

"I'm so happy for you, but what does your Maman think?" That took away some of her sparkle.

"I don't know, we haven't exactly told her yet." She started playing with her ring. "Actually I'm not even supposed to be wearing this."

"Why not? It's yours."

"What if Maman sees it?" She suddenly took it off and shoved it down the front of her dress and then patted it securely. "Safe and sound."

I laughed and she asked about my dress, which I had no problem going on about. I thanked her profusely for designing such a marvelous dress and we pondered whether she could find work designing dresses, since she would not be able to dance.

"He seems rich enough that I will have anything that I desire, but I think I will go crazy if I just sit at home all the time." She mused staring off at my closet doors.

"But your dancing..." I mourned for her, easily bringing to mind her effortless beauty on that stage.

"He wants me to be his private dancer," she laughed like she didn't care, but I gave her a knowing look. "It's alright, Christine. I sort of suspected that I would have to give it up." I sighed for her and studied her happiness. It was not forced and she genuinely seemed to be dealing with Cameron's rules quite well.

"Well, don't forget, Monday morning we are going to try your dress and then if all goes well, next Sunday..." I couldn't finish because I was smiling too widely.

"That quickly?" Meg looked surprised. "Next week? Who's pushing? Is this Erik's idea?"

I blushed lightly and looked down at my own engagement ring. "It was my idea. He wanted to wait until the summer, but I can't wait."

Meg giggled and pinched me. "Physical love is not a sin, Christine." She knew me so well.

"I should have waited..."

"Oh poo." Meg waved away my misgivings and took my hands.

"We should practice." She pulled me to stand with her and I absurdedly thought she was still speaking of physical love.

"Practice what?"

"Saying our vows," she laughed.

"Oh," I giggled. "You go first."

"I swear before God and all my friends that I will love you until I breathe no more." She ended with a flourish to her brow and we dissolved into giggles. We were so high, so excited about our mutual engagements. I was happy for Cameron and Meg. I was happy for Erik and I. All of us were so lucky to have found love.

**Erik**

The apparent strength of my evil powers was somewhat disconcerting. I'd barely mentioned Raoul going off to make a man of himself, spoke it mostly because I was so disgusted with him, but he did not even go home. He went straight to a naval office and signed himself up. I tried to remember if I told him to do anything else unrelated to Christine, but couldn't recall. Not that my idea for him was bad. I could have told him to stop breathing or jump in a river and drown. Instead, he very well could become a hero thanks to my involvement. Or he could die, which had its benefits as well.

To keep Monsieur DeChangy from going crazy, or bothering Christine again, I anonymously found where Raoul was dispatched and sent a telegram for him to contact his family. I didn't tell him to forget his family or his life, just Christine, so those memories should be intact. I suppose my orders filled him with a patriotic vigor, and he was so focused on serving his country, that his family faded in importance.

I was not planning to hypnotize anyone else, so though I filed this new knowledge of my powerful ability, I never expected to use it again.

Christine and I were very close to becoming man and wife. So close in fact that the next week passed in a blur and it was suddenly the night before our nuptials. I'd barely slept the last three days, as I tried to finish what I could of our home. We had a room to sleep in, though it was not our bedroom, and the basic structure of the ground floor was almost complete.

I'd informed Cameron and _the understudy_ that Christine wold not be performing the week after our wedding. She asked for a whole month, but I did not want Carlotta getting any more comfortable in the starring role. A week would do. For now.

I finished setting up our new marital bed in what would be our kitchen when the house was finished. The room looked nice and I hoped for the hundredth time that Christine would like it. It wasn't exactly a castle. It wasn't even a home yet, but it was ours, and I didn't want to bring her anywhere else.

I yawned hugely and stretched my sore muscles, looking forward to falling into bed with my angel. This would be our last night as two separate beings. Tomorrow we would be joined in the eyes of her Lord. I cast my eyes over the room one more time, to make sure I'd taken care of everything, before extinguishing the lamps and heading back to the opera house. Christine was waiting for me, but it was only to tell me that I should go below without her.

"You have to go, Erik." She pleaded and yet kissed me with a ravenous hunger.

"Come with me," I tried to urge her to come below, but she was under some foolish notion that we were not to spend this evening with each other. In fact she had just finished informing me that I could not see her until the ceremony tomorrow.

"It's bad luck," she pushed me to the mirror but then pulled on my shirt to bring our mouths together. "If I can ever let you leave..." We passed quite a few long minutes lost in an intimate embrace and she finally pulled away with a contented sigh. "I suppose I can survive one night without your hard body next to mine." She sounded wistful and I pressed said hard body against her.

"You do not have to endure any such thing." I tried to tempt her to break her rule. She ran her hands over my buttocks and seemed to be feeling every inch of them and then sighed again.

"No, no, you have to go. It's the proper way to do things. I've already done everything else backwards..."

"Darling..." I tried to pull her back and she scurried away.

"You should go while I have the will to resist you."

"I do not want you to resist me," I growled low, and advanced on her.

"Erik!" She squeaked and held up her hands. "Please. Just think of how nice it will be when we finally see one another tomorrow. Think of how wonderful and exciting it will be. Please."

I didn't like it at all, but it was her wish, so I left her there and went down below alone. It was a lonely feeling, to be in my home without her shining presence. It did not happen very often anymore and the emptiness of my cave was a little overwhelming. I wandered aimlessly, wondering how I ever spent so much time alone, with no one.

I washed and changed into some comfortable clothing, but hesitated to go to bed. I didn't want to sleep without her. Could I even sleep without her? Maybe it was her presence that allowed me to relax enough to even go to sleep without laudanum. I didn't feel like taking laudanum tonight. Though it had been a few days since I'd taken any, or gotten any sleep. I didn't want to forget this night. I didn't want to mask this feeling of loneliness. I never wanted to take for granted how blessed I was to have Christine.

I growled in bored annoyance and paced the living area, walking straight to the piano. I stared at the great black beauty, calling for my restless energy. I sat down and the music flowed from within me. I was thinking of Christine and having her for eternity and the music pulsed from my being. It called for the other half of me, if Christine had been here she would be heading for me right at this moment, but she was not here and the music turned darker.

Dark, passionate, obsession of mine. The evil creature who stole the angel for his own. Trapped her in bonds of matrimony so she can never escape. She will be his for all time.

I stopped in the middle of playing, as words were swarming my head. An opera. Our story could be an extravagant opera.

I fetched some paper and music flowed from my mind onto the page. A dark passionate song about burning desire and once that one was written and out of my head, a sweet protective song, asking for love and giving love in return. I was smiling as I wrote these songs out, thinking of Christine singing them with me. Just to be silly and make her laugh, I wrote a song about her and the Phantom of the Opera.

I sat at my piano all night, composing song after song. They didn't have to be perfect, they were just an honest expression of my wandering brain. I didn't want to go to my bed alone, so I sat at the keys, thought of Christine, and wrote songs for my soon to be wife. I put them all in a red leather binder and would present them to her tonight and tell her it was what I did last night to pass the time until our nuptials. She didn't honestly expect me to sleep? Without her, of all nonsensical things?

The morning came more quickly this way, then if I had tossed and turned in my empty bed all night. Today was our wedding day. After today, I would never be alone again. The thought was extremely comforting and I had a smile on my face as I donned my best suit and prepared myself for my bride.


	63. Marriage

**Christine**

I was not a nervous bride. I was more anxious then nervous. I wanted to be married to my lover so badly that I practically counted the hours and minutes as they passed. I tossed in bed all night, looking at the time every half an hour. I finally fell asleep at some point, but woke after only a few hours rest.

It was enough, I could hardly stand all the waiting. I'd never felt so impatient to get on with things as I did the morning of my wedding. I already had my bag packed with all the feminine accoutrements I would need tonight. My hair was curled and pinned and the veil and wreath of leaves were sitting on my powder table. Meg would be coming to help me into my dress and then we would be off to the church. For now I was just sitting and waiting, again.

I closed my eyes to pray and Erik's face came into my mind. I tried to imagine what his face would show when he saw me in the dress. Would he be speechless or say something eloquent? Would he just tell me I'm beautiful, as he often does? Would he smile for me or would he be too nervous for that?

He was very nervous when we visited the church for the first time to meet the minister. I was glad that we found a Lutheran minister. I wasn't sure how it would work to be married by someone of another faith and at least one of us had to be at ease with the whole procedure. I fretted all that morning that Erik would not enter the church, would not like the minister, would be terribly uncomfortable, but Minister Elofson put to rest all of my worries with his friendly, open character and his warm trust. He was only too happy to help us become one and didn't ask any questions as to why we were in such a hurry. Maybe Erik's glare kept him from prying. Or maybe he could see how close Erik and I were, how marriage was the only thing left to accomplish between us.

I sighed and glanced at the clock. If it would only move a little faster...

**Erik**

We were to be married during the service today and I was more than a little nervous about a whole crowd of strangers staring at me. I'd asked the minister for a private ceremony but he did not have time in the next few weeks. Christine did not want to wait, and so here I was, gluing on my rubber mask in front of Christine's mirror to make sure it looked seamless.

She would have preferred I wear no mask when we wed. I knew that as surely as I knew she loved me, but I would never show my face to so many people.

I met Nadir at his home and he smiled warmly as he greeted me. It eased my nerves emmensely to have him at my side.

"Nervous?" he asked in the carriage.

I nodded and checked my pocket for Christine's ring for the tenth time. He laughed and patted my knee. "It will all be fine, Erik. Everything is ready for the luncheon. I've told Molly to set up in the conservatory so that there is room for dancing. I read somewhere that Swedes like to dance at weddings so I thought Christine would..." his voice faded as the church came into sight. My breathing was irregular as we pulled up and stopped. Was she here already? I felt like it had been ages since I'd laid eyes on her. Would she look different to me, today on our wedding day?

I hopped out and stared at the people milling into the church, looking for Meg or her mother or anyone familiar. No one recognized me and I recognized no one and I was left alone to watch the crowd.

"Erik?" Nadir called softly from behind me. "A little help?" I shook myself and helped him out of the carriage and then Gil snapped the reins and took our carriage from the front entrance. My palms felt sweaty in the gloves, even though it was not warm out. "We should wait in the vestibule." Nadir guided me through the church entrance and the minister greeted us.

"Monsieur Karan, Monsieur Karan," he nodded at us both and gestured to a small room behind him. "Your bride is within." He smiled a warm genuine smile as he shook my hand. "You will see her shortly," he promised.

My eyes were fixed on that closed door until Cameron arrived. Clotilda kissed my fake cheek before they continued into the church to witness my marriage. I could feel the tension in my frame. Christine was behind me, hidden away from my eyes and I stood like a pillar of stone, waiting for the minister to get on with things. He greeted all the parishoners like old friends, knew their names and shook their hands. I'd liked him after meeting him the first time because he was so different from what I remembered of the priests growing up. He was friendly.

A few of the people passed curious eyes over Nadir and I, but I'd asked for as much anonymity as possible. Christine was the star of the Garnier and we did not want a scene on our wedding day. Since no one really knew what her fiancee looked like, we stood a good chance of taking the congregation by surprise.

Nadir patted my shoulder at one point and left his hand there in silent support. It made me feel better and my stone-like stance softened slightly.

Finally, as the trickle of people slowed, the minster knocked lightly on the door and Meghan emerged. She was radiant in her bright orange dress, her long blond hair tied up in an intricate bun. Her bright blue eyes found me, and she grinned and came forward quickly, to kiss my cheek.

"Don't look so nervous, Erik." She laughed and Nadir stepped to Meg's arm.

"Shall we take our places, Mlle Giry?"

They left me alone and the minister gave me my instructions before making his way to the front of the church. He began his sermon, welcoming everyone and letting them all know they were to witness a marriage today. He began speaking about love and marriage and how it was important to honor your spouse as deeply as you honored your lord. I peeked a glance at the closed door, wondering if I was allowed to speak to her. Did I have to remain silent? I didn't know all the unwritten rules like she seemed to. At least I was right here, instead of way at the front of the church waiting for her.

After my horrid dream, where Christine collapsed at the door of the church, choking on a cloud, there was no way I was letting her walk in alone. She also had no one to give her away and the minister had suggested we come in together and leave together, as a symbol of our partnership. I liked the idea very much and Christine had agreed it solved all issues perfectly. I heard my name come softly from the door and my heart trembled in my chest. I moved as if in a dream and spread my hands on the dark wood that separated me from my angel.

"Christine?" who else would it be, but I was a little scattered.

"Erik." I heard her sigh pleasantly and could imagine her smooth cheek pressed to the door. "I missed you."

"I never want to spend another night without you," I whispered viciously.

She laughed. "Then let's get married." My tension eased and I leaned my head on the door.

"I love you so much..." I heard the minister annouce my name and then I heard the shuffling, rumbling noise of the whole congregation turning to see the bride. My heart sped. "They are ready for us."

"I'm opening the door," she sounded so calm and I felt like I was on fire.

The door slowly opened and my angel was revealed to me. Time halted, so I could take in every detail of how beautiful my bride was. The dress was exquisitely detailed and worth the ridiculous sum of money I paid for it, but I did not spend too long appreciating it because I was anxious to look in her eyes. She glowed with happiness beneath her veil, her golden eyes truly the light in my darkness.

"Do you like it?" she asked softly as she stepped forward, her eyes never leaving mine. I nodded mutely and she stood at my side. She seemed to be waiting for me to do something, but I was distracted by the vision she created in her white dress and veil. Her hair was half swept back and coiled perfectly into dark, golden ringlets down her back. The veil was less puffy then the cloud in my dream, and held in place with a halo of leaves and tiny white buds. It floated down around her face and looked far less threatening then I thought it would. The dress was pure, blindingly, white satin, casting reflections all around her so her entire body glowed with her light. It suited her astoundingly well, proper, but stylish, and with a flare of the romantic in the volumous, twinkling skirt. "Are we ready?" her lips gently curved.

There was a piano playing something stately but I think I flew her to the front of the church. Sound and people were just a blur of unimportance because Christine had all of my attention. This was MY delicate, precious, beautiful, angel bride.

The minister was speaking to the congregation, asking questions and from the corner of my eye I could see him gesturing with authority. My eyes were more focused on Christine's bowed head. I could see the golden sheen of her luscious hair beneath the veil. The crown of leaves were dark but the tiny white flowers stood out in detail. They each had five pointy little petals, like tiny stars had been captured for her to wear on this important day. She glanced up through the veil and smiled at me, just as awful music began to pour from the organ. I couldn't help grimacing and it appeared Christine was biting on her lip. I should have thought to tell them we required no second rate attempt at heavenly music.

Then, everyone began singing. They were completely out of tune and some were making up the words as they went. They were not together, they lacked every quality even a mediocre singer possessed and it was all I could do to keep from shouting stop. Christine was shaking very gently next to me and I realized she was laughing. Or at least trying not to laugh.

I suppose it was amusing, but I couldn't summon a laugh for her as my eyes began to roam over how many people were in the church, producing this ear corroding volume. With empty pews the church seemed small and quaint, but row after row was now filled with God fearing individuals. I felt my pulse begin to pound in my neck. Surely some of these people would recognize the evil in me as others in my life could. Someone would cry out at the injustice of this union. I felt my arm flexing under Christine's fingers.

Some men were not really paying attention to the music and many were staring at Christine. I raised my hand to cover hers and hold it tightly in place. My breath was becoming pronounced and Christine casually raised her other hand and started to stroke my arm. Small, gentle, soothing, patting motions, but I pinned her hand against me and began scowling at the men who were staring. I didn't want to be soothed. I wanted to put those men in their place. I managed to make four of them look at their toes before the song ended and the minister turned to us.

"Erik and Christine, please join hands." I turned to my bride and our gloved hands laced together. Her golden eyes lifted and the congregation faded as I drowned in the bottomless depths of her love. "Hand in hand you enter marriage, hand in hand you step out in faith. Do not allow your grip to become weak. Be firm in your commitment. And yet, be flexible as you go through change. Do not allow your hold to become intolerable. In the years ahead you will need both strength and tenderness." He looked between the two of us, pausing for effect. "Strength and tenderness, firm commitment and flexibility, of such is a marriage made, hand in hand." He placed his hand over both of ours and Christine bowed her head. "Remember that you do not walk this path alone." I frowned at the minister as he touched on something that had always bothered me. My lonely path in life. "Do not be afraid to reach out to others when together you face difficulty. Other hands are there: friends, family, and the church." Minster Elofson smiled at me and then turned his friendly gaze to Christine's bowed head as if looking at me made him uncomfortable. "To accept an outreached hand is not an admission of failure, but an act of faith. For behind us, underneath us, around us all, are the outstretched arms of the Lord. It is into his hand, the hands of God in Jesus Christ, that above all else, we commit this union of husband and wife. Amen."

The people around us and Christine herself, all murmured the appropriate response as I stayed mute. Christine glanced up at me with a nervous smile and I felt my face soften. I no longer walked the path of life alone. I had my sweet Christine for the rest of her life.

"Do you, Erik, take this woman, Christine, to be your wife, according to God's holy decree; do you promise to be to her a loving and loyal husband, to cherish and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." My voice was loud in the quiet church, but my eyes stayed riveted to my bride.

"Do you, Christine, take this man, Erik, to be your husband, according to God's holy decree; do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal wife, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Her answer was quieter than mine, but the look on her face shouted her love.

"Do you have the ring?" Minister Elofson asked gently and I reached into my pocket to retrieve the triple banded gold ring. One band for each step on our path together, engagement, marriage and parenthood, as was the Swedish custom. "The wedding ring," his voice once more projected around us, "Is a symbol of eternity. It is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual bond which unites two hearts in endless love. And now as a token of your love and of your deep desire to be forever united in heart and soul, you Erik, may place the ring on the finger of your bride."

"Christine," I momentarily forgot my line as she gazed at me. "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you." She broke eye contact to glance down at the ring and when she lifted her eyes they were brimming with tears.

Minister Elofson put his hand over ours again. "The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and give you peace." He lifted his eyes and addressed the congregation. "Erik and Christine have given themselves to each other by the promises they have exchanged, I pronounce them to be husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Christine once more murmured Amen and then a slow smile curled her lips.

"Erik, you may kiss your bride." He smiled in encouragement and my fingers fumbled briefly with the hem of her veil. I'd known I would kiss her in front of all these people, I'd kissed her many times after her shows, in front of anyone who cared to look, but this seemed to be making a spectacle of something entirely holy. I lifted the flimsy material up and over her crown of tiny stars and leaves. I took her upturned face in my long gloved hands. She waited with large dewy eyes and infinite patience. She was radiant with love, her smooth face framed by my hands. She waited happily for my lips in front of all these strangers. Strangers who were here to witness this act. Strangers who were here to stop sweet, young ladies from marrying men like me. Strangers that believed in a God that surely did not want this evil creature with his Angel...

No one called out as my lips neared hers. She waited for my deformed, grotesque lips...

I kissed her lightly and gently, barely long enough for her lashes to flutter.

"It is my privilege to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Karan." Polite applause filled the air as I stared down at my wife.

The rest of the service honestly blurred into oblivion. They sang and played more horendous music but I could almost detect a pulsing energy between Christine and I. Every time our eyes met I could feel a difference in her look. We were united in Holy Matrimony and I finally realized why she had been so urgent to do so. No one could separate us now. We were one in every possible way. I'd always known she was mine from the connection I felt with her, but now no one could dispute the fact.

We were allowed the honor of being the first out of the church and I took my bride, my wife, straight into our waiting carriage. I shut the door behind us and took her roughly into my arms.

"You are mine forever," I gloated before covering her sweet lips with a heated kiss. She pressed up into my kiss, wrapping me in her tight embrace. I was ravenous for the taste of her and our kiss became harder, with a driving intensity. I glutted myself on her sweet lips, she _was_ mine forever. I broke from her mouth, panting, and she giggled.

"It is good you did not kiss me like that in church."

I settled her to my side and smiled as tensions inside me melted away. "It was an enormous restraint on my part."

"I really like the sound of Christine Karan."

"The alluring star of the Opera Garnier, Madame Karan!"

"Ohh, I like that too." She walked her fingers up my chest and our faces turned to one another. Our kiss spread warmth through my body as I cradled her face in my palm.

The carriage rolled through scenic parts of the city, down one street and up another, but we were oblivious to it all. When we were not intimately embraced, we were gazing into each other's eyes. The entire ride was somewhat pointless as we would have been just as entertained sitting perfectly still. It did managed to keep us from Nadir's long enough for our friends to gather for a small celebration.

Not many were invited, but it was enough for me. I would have been happy to just disappear with my wife for our week of solitude, but I knew Christine would want a party. The Inninbalms and the Girys were the only ones I would choose to share this day with and so Nadir and I made it happen.

**Meg**

Maman and I rode with Erik's father to their house. They always found many things to speak about and it left me able to stare out the window in thought. Christine had been so excited today, so happy to cleave herself to Erik. She had no misgivings about their life together, even though she wasn't exactly sure what it would entail.

I was a little sad that they married so fast. I knew that Erik would not let her live at the opera anymore. She would probably be moved into his father's house until he finished building theirs. Which meant that my best friend was gone. The next few months seemed to loom ahead but I did have a bright light to look to.

I remembered the way Cameron looked today. So handsome and regal in his chair that I wished I could have touched him, even if it was only briefly. When would we announce our engagement to the world?

I sighed heartily and Nadir commented. "Something troubling you, Meghan? I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet." He smiled warmly.

"I will miss Christine," I shrugged and decided to test the waters. "And it makes me want to get married too."

"First you need a man," he laughed. "I wonder, would you marry an older man?" I looked up at his twinkling eyes and laughed myself.

"Are you proposing to me, Monsieur Karan?"

"Perhaps," Maman tsked at him.

"Such behavior," she admonished him and he turned his jovial smile to her.

"And you, Antoinette. Would you marry an old man?"

"I believe you have wedding fever," Maman turned her nose into the air but her lips were twitching with laughter. "You should see a doctor."

"I think I need a priest." They both laughed and I liked to see Maman so playful. Come to think of it, she had been very easy going the last little while. Before I could think any deeper on my new revelation we were at the Karan home.

Cameron's carriage was just behind ours and I took Clotilda's arm to help her into the house.

"You look beautiful today, Meghan," she held my arm tightly. "Just because Cameron has not told you so does not mean he did not notice."

I wasn't sure what the appropriate response was and merely said thank you. We were led to the music room, where flowers adorned every corner. I wondered where in the world they found so many flowers in the middle of winter. Nadir was pointing out some interesting bits of tradition that he made sure were a part of Erik and Christine's day to Maman and Clotilda. It left Cameron free to speak to me but he didn't right away. His eyes raked over me in appreciation and those torrid brown eyes filled with dark longing. I felt myself flushing and looked down at the ground.

"Mlle Giry," his soft polite voice reached out to me. "You look particularly lovely today. Orange is a delightful color on you."

"Thank you," I glanced to see if Maman was occupied, but she was watching us. I swallowed hard and stared at the hem of my dress.

"There is no need to be so nervous around me." Cameron was moving closer to me to make our conversation easier. "I may be a count but I am still just a regular person. Same goes for my being in a chair." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I don't give a fig that you're sitting in a chair and I'm not nervous." He was smiling slowly and sweetly, turning my insides to mush.

"You look nervous." He was playing some sort of game with me for Maman's benefit but I was too slow to figure it out.

"I am preoccupied. Christine is my closest companion and will be leaving the opera dormitories. I knew it was coming but..."

"You will miss her. I understand." He picked up my hand and I couldn't help stiffening because I could still feel Maman keeping her eye on us. "I will still be there." He brought my fingers to his lips, as his eyes burned with passionate dark fire. My ears were ringing with the sound of my thumping heart. "I never got a chance to thank you for that favor." He murmured over my hand. "Thank you, dearest Meghan." He kissed my hand delicately, taking his time to brush his nose against my knuckles.

My knees felt a little wobbly as he released me and I have no idea what I mumbled in response. I turned away and went to sit down. Maman came to me quickly.

"Were you rude to him again? What did you say? I could not hear you?" She looked anxious and I frowned at her.

"I've never been rude to him."

She snorted lightly, "What did you say?" she asked in a vicious whisper.

I raked my brain for something to tell her and decided on the truth. "I don't know. Something..."

She searched my face and then patted my knee. "Next time, just tell him you think he is devastatingly handsome and get it over with."

I didn't have time to find out what was happening under my nose because the dark manservant came in and announced the arrival of the bride and groom.

**Christine**

The conservatory was decorated with hundreds of flowers and I threw my arms around Nadir.

"Thank you so much! It looks wonderful. Wherever did you find so many flowers?"

"Erik took care of that, I just had them set up." I turned to my husband with gratitude.

"It's lovely, Erik." He looked so relaxed and pleased that I couldn't help putting my arms around him. He carressed my back adoringly and I wiggled and giggled.

"There's time for that later, my boy." Nadir patted Erik's back and everyone surrounded us with good tiddings.

I tried to be an engaging bride and concentrate on our guests, but every time Erik was near me all I could think of was grabbing his hand and pushing open the conservatory doors and fleeing past the gardens, all the way to our house by the stream. I would have to take the time to look at the home he created with his bare hands, no matter how much I just wanted to pull him to our marital bed and dispense with his clothing.

Erik touched me gently, his long hand resting on the curve of my back, and I looked up at him. "Would you like some wine?"

"Just a little, please." His eyes stayed on my upturned face and I slowly smiled at my husband. It was such an indescribable feeling of happiness to finally be married. It made me want to laugh and cry with equal joy. His hand tightened briefly on my waist before he turned away, and I watched him pouring us both a glass as Clotilda laughed.

"Such love is a joy to see." My cheeks reddened, but in my heart I no longer felt like a sinner. Erik was my husband and I could love him as ecstatically as I wanted.

"I never thought I would love a man so much."

"Just wait until you have a babe. That love expands to fill your whole being."

We shared a moment of silent thankfulness for such devoted love and then she took my hand. "Let's have a look at these rings." I giggled as Meg joined us.

"I'm going to miss you," she hugged me with one arm and rested her head on my shoulder.

"I'll be at rehearsal every day." I leaned my head on hers, knowing I would almost miss our late night chats when Erik was busy. Secretly, I was far more interested in having every late night with my husband.

Everyone sat around an extravagant table set with a vast assortment of food and ornaments. There was a bowl of gold coins and a large plate with a kaleidoscope of different colored herbs and spices. Nadir explained all of the strange trays set before us.

"The coins are for prosperity, the honey is for a sweet life, the almonds are for many healthy babes, and the assorted herbs will keep away evil spirits. There are a few other traditions, but," he waved as if they were not important. "They are from another place and another time."

"Please, share them," I loved seeing Nadir so proud and happy and I wanted him to keep going.

"Yes, Father, tell us the traditions so we can perform them correctly." Erik laced his fingers through mine and that familiar thrill went through me. We were married. I was finally his wife. I had to mentally shake myself to listen to Nadir and not start dreaming about tonight in my husband's arms.

"Well, if you do not mind humoring an old man." He leaned over and picked up a small brazier that was emitting a pleasant scent. "There are a few rituals I wanted to perform. Christine could you replace your veil?" Erik helped me turn the veil down over my face and we all fell silent as Nadir began to move around us. He limped slowly, wafting the aromatic smoke from the brazier to surround us. He began speaking in a foreign language that I guessed was his native tongue. Seven times he walked the circle and I felt like he was casting a spell upon us all. Everyone was silent, in awe of Nadir's traditions, which were so different from ours. Then he replaced the brazier and stood behind a sheet covered portrait.

Nadir adjusted the portrait's position and then smiled at me. "Please lift your veil, Christine. By yourself," he added to keep Erik from helping me. I folded back my veil and sat up straight as Nadir pulled the sheet away and revealed a gilded mirror. "What do you see, Erik?"

I cocked my head to the side so I could see Erik's expression. A smile played with his lips, "I see my wife."

I quickly looked to the mirror but it held only a reflection of the ceiling for me. Nadir nodded and came back to where we sat. He had a small bowl in his hand which was split in two. One side contained rice and the other, a dark red paste. He stared down at the bowl for a moment and then looked at me.

"It is usually a women who performs this. I may not do a very good job." He dipped his thumb into the paste and pressed it to my forehead. It felt sticky, which made sense because next he scooped some of the rice and pressed that to my forehead as well. He repeated this to Erik, except making a long smudge down the center of his forehead. He stepped back when he was done and tears glimmered in his eyes.

"You are cleansed and free of evil. May Allah bless and keep you." He made to turn but Erik stood quickly and enveloped him in his arms. The men held each other tight and I gave Nadir a hug and a kiss of my own.

The rest of the evening unfolded, full of food, laughter and mirth. Everyone rejoiced and ate and wished us well. Erik sat at the piano and dedicated a new song he'd written to me, his wife. I gazed at him adoringly as he played but made sure to keep my distance. I never could control myself when we touched while he played.

Cameron played piano for us as well, so that I could dance with my husband. Mme Giry and Meg waltzed each other around the open space, showing us how it should be done. Erik was new to dancing but his natural musicality made learning easy. By the third song he was twirling me effortlessly and by the seventh song I was spent.

"No more dancing," I panted and Nadir made a joke about being able to tire the Swede.

Cameron played us some lovely music that I had never heard before and I realized he was sharing some of his own creations on this special day. I noticed Meg staring at him quite often and if her mother didn't know of her feelings before, she probably did after tonight. Meg did nothing to conseal the desire in her face, the joy and nerves when he spoke to her and the flirty glances they gave each other.

By the time Erik and I bid everyone good night, I assumed that Madame Giry knew what was happening because she was the happiest I'd ever seen her. I was also quite happy myself as we gave our friends one last wave and disappeared into the darkening night towards our home.

**Erik**

The sky was darkening quickly as we made our way home. I'd thought to have a carriage for the short trip but it really was too short to bother with a horse and driver. There was not even a trail yet, joining the two homes, so we walked hand in hand, with the train of her dress gathered up so it did not drag in the dirt and grass.

"I should have brought a lantern with us," I lamented aloud. The dark was pressing around us now.

"I don't mind," she sighed, "It makes me feel like I'm in another world."

I glanced over at her, my wife, and knew exactly what she meant. Just being with her made me feel like I was in another world, another time, a place just for us. The dark added to the sensation that we were the only people in this place for us. We walked in silence and I thought of how I should behave when we arrived at the house. I had to give her appropriate time to look around and take in the novelty of our very own home and not just rip the dress from her body. I probably should not rip her wedding dress anyway.

It was a beautiful dress, twinkling gayly as we walked, the sparkling beads catching light even though there was none. She had her cloak on, but I could easily bring to mind the way the dress hugged every curve of her torso, the subtle satin sheen, and her feminine frame emphasized to perfection.

The house was visible to me but Christine did not know what to look for and did not notice it until we were a few feet away.

"I can't see it, Erik!" Her hand tightened on mine.

"I should have brought a lantern."

I could tell her lip had jutted out but she suddenly turned to me. "I'll look at the outside in the morning light. Let's go inside."

We entered our current bedroom and future kitchen and I took her straight to where the lamp was waiting for me to light. I hesitated to strike the match, and reached out in the dark to take Christine's hand in mine.

"We light our fire together, as one."

"Erik, what...?" I struck the match and light bloomed between us. Christine smiled up at me. "Our fire?"

"Fire to keep us warm."

"And to light the way." She guided my hand down to the lamp and as one, we brought light into the darkness. She helped me illuminate our bedroom, until a soft golden light filled the room. When it was finally all done she clasped her hands together and turned a slow circle in the middle of the floor.

"What a unique bedroom," she took it all in and I put my arm around her shoulders.

"It will be our kitchen when the house is finished."

"Oh good. I thought all the doors were a little odd, plus the cooking stove, cupboards and water basin." She laughed jovially and took my hand. "Will you give me a tour?"

"Now, or would you prefer to wait for the light of day?" As much sense as I was making I knew there was enough desire in my voice to give away what I truly wanted to do. I could not help myself. She was mine forever, but I was supposed to keep waiting? I wanted to wrap our bodies together to feel our blessed connection. Forget looking at the damn house.

Her eyes darted over my face and a slow smile curled her sweet lips. "I could wait for daylight, if I had sufficient...distraction?"

I laughed as I pulled her into my arms. "I can provide some distraction."

**Christine**

I melted into my husband's kiss as we stood in our very own home. My arms tried to hold him and love him and convey my utter devotion. I felt so peaceful, so relaxed after months of sin and days of restlessness. We were married.

I sank into him, pressing my body on his and pulling him closer. My hands slid down his tight torso and though I imagined ripping the thick fabric of his jacket, I knew there was no rush. I pulled back and gazed into his soul piercing eyes. Tonight we would let our passions simmer until they overwhelmed us with unbearable intensity.

I shimmied away to remove my cloak and hung it by the door, on the first in a line of sturdy hooks. Erik started the fire and I began nosing about the space. The stove looked marvelous, I could hardly wait to use it. There was a dressing screen set up on one side of the room and I moved my bag behind it, knowing I would need it there. The table and chairs seemed a bit squashed where they sat but I glanced at the bed against the opposite wall, taking up a lot of space. It was just as lovely as the one in his room below ground. The intricate carved headboard was a work of art and I moved closer so I could inspect the curving lines and flowing woodwork. Erik came up behind me and pulled me close.

"Straight to the bed, wife?" He whispered in my ear and I giggled.

"I'm just looking at the headboard."

"We could take a closer look at the sheets?" He was purring and nuzzling my neck, making my insides quiver with desire.

"I'm not very sleepy," I wiggled away to inspect a tray of bottles on the side table. "What are all these?"

"Oils."

"For cooking?" I glanced over my shoulder and his eyes were swirling with heat.

"No." Something about his look and the fact that they were by the bed made a blush rise in my cheeks. I remembered a strained carriage ride and a tiny tidbit of information provided helpfully by Meghan.

"Oh." I picked up one of the bottles and twirled it in my hands as I stared at my husband. He wanted to try Meg's suggestion. My eyes wandered down his frame as he removed his jacket and tossed it on a waiting chair. I think I wanted to try Meg's suggestion as well.

"I'm not very sleepy either." His voice was smooth as the satin of my dress as he slowly approached me, his heated gaze tempting me to give in.

"Well, then there's no reason to go to bed just yet." I felt very flirty and confident as I replaced the glass bottle on the tray and sauntered away. I knew Erik was watching me as I ran my hands down over my waist to straighten my dress before snooping through a few kitchen cupboards. I started absently removing the pins from my hair and he came up behind me again, as if he could not stay away.

"Let me help you," his gentle touch on my wrists stilled my fingers and I held my breath as he took over. He placed the pins delicately on the counter and then turned me to face him. He was devouring me with his eyes and I trembled in anticipation of his mouth and hands. He did not disappoint me. His long hands curved around my waist and slid up my back to pull me close. Our bodies pressed as he covered my mouth with a soul searching kiss.

My mind unraveled and my heart took over. We kissed and touched, our lips urgent and our hands insistent. We needed each other, we burned for each other. We were incomplete without each other. He broke away and took my face in his hands.

"I want you, my wife. More than I've ever wanted anything." His fingertips pressed against my skull and I felt so deliciously weak in the face of his desire.

"I want you, my husband." I whispered as I stepped forward, pushing him back towards the bed.

"Now." He demanded, as if he'd been made to wait an eternity and not just a few days. I felt the naughty smile curl my lips and I shook my head playfully.

"Not yet," I sat him down on the bed as his brow came down.

"Are you disobeying me already?" he growled, his lips quirking to keep from grinning.

"Yes, of course." I ran both hands through his hair. "It's best to disobey on your first evening together because then the husband will know what to expect." I started unbuttoning his shirt and his hands started searching the back of my dress for the clasps.

"I see," he laid a hot kiss on my neck and my knees wobbled. "Must I administer a spanking?" he bit me gently and heat shot through me.

"Yes please," I moaned as he sucked on my neck. After a heated minute he gave up looking for the clasps and cupped my backside in his hands. He pulled me onto him as he laid back on the bed, his eyes fixed on mine. He gave my posterior a light slap through the layers of my wedding dress.

"Obeying your husband is tantamount to a happy marriage," he sounded serious so I nodded gravely. "Now, I need you to remove your dress before I rip it off you."

I obeyed and described where the clasps were hidden and his deft fingers finally loosened the tight torso of the dress. I held it up in place and moved behind the dressing screen to don my nightgown. Madame Benoit had helpfully supplied me with a few daring night gowns for my wedding night.

"A man likes to be teased," she confided in me as I inspected the flimsiness of the garments. They were all scandalously made and I'd chosen one that was cut in a normal fashion but made of a see through material.

I slipped it over my head and knew that my entire body was visible through the nightgown. I shook out my hair and then stepped around the screen wondering if Erik's reaction would be as speechless as earilier today.

He stared as I approached and I twirled my hair around my fingers, swaying my hips in what I hoped was a provocative gesture. "Shall I massage your shoulders for you, my husband?" Erik's mouth didn't seem to be working and I tried not to show how excited it made me. "Is something wrong, my love?" I did my best to look worried.

"Wrong...no, no...nothing...wrong." He had already removed his shirt and I watched him sit on the edge of the bed as if to do something but his eyes were fixed on me in worship. I couldn't help gazing at his pale torso with a little worship of my own. That body of his was straight out of a fairytale. Only warrior princes had such perfectly sculpted arms and such defined stomach muscles.

"Shall I remove your shoes?" I knelt before him and he nodded slowly.

"My shoes..." he murmured and I hid my smile by bowing my head. With his shoes off, his pants were much easier to deal with and soon my adonis was naked. We stood toe to toe, staring at each other and I let my hands skim up and down, where ever I pleased. I delicately brushed my hand up his erect arousal. He watched me like a predator waiting to spring on its prey.

"What next?" I whispered, with my hands safely on his slim hips.

"Get in the bed," his voice was hoarse as he ordered me about.

"Would you like me to massage you?" I asked again and he picked me up and laid me on the bed.

"I would like you to do as I say," he was smiling and grumbling at the same time and I couldn't help laughing.

"I don't believe the word obey was in our vows?" I so enjoyed teasing him and by the curve of his lips, I assumed he was enjoying it as well.

"Then we will get remarried tomorrow and I will make sure the minister orders you to obey me."

"Is obedience so important?" I was getting distracted from our playful talking because Erik was laid out next to me with hunger in his gaze.

"No," he pressed his mouth on mine, consuming me with a torrid twirl of his tongue. Just as quickly, he stopped and grinned against my lips. "I have other ways to control you." Before I could say a word he was kissing me, touching me, rolling above me and pressing me with his desire. We lost ourselves to the burning passion and it was hard to resist pulling him to me for complete union. I wanted him inside of me so badly. I wanted him to bring us to the edge of ecstasy. I wanted him desperately, and no longer felt guilty for feeling this way, but I also wanted tonight to be different. I wanted tonight to last forever and at the rate we were going it was going to only last a few more minutes.

"Stop, Erik...oh god..." he was licking my ear, which always tended to make me lose my mind, but he heard me.

"Stop?" he sounded mystified as he pulled away.

"I..." I was trying to gather my few remaining coherent thoughts to form words. "I want...I want to..."

"Finish what we've started?" Erik buried his face back into my neck and ran his graceful hands down my body. I arched for him and put my arms around him.

"Yes...that...but I want..._more_..." I wasn't making sense and I felt Erik laugh lightly.

"Tell me what it is you want," he whispered as he kissed his way down my neck. "I am yours forever. Reveal your darkest desires to me so I may please you."

"I want...you...beneath me." Erik's lips curved wickedly and I realized he still had his mask on. "And I want you bare." I ran my hand down his cheek, sorry that I hadn't noticed earlier.

He sighed and rolled from the bed. "Denied by my own wife." I knew he was probably joking, but I didn't like it and grabbed his arm.

"Not denied," I said quickly. "Never denied." He began to smile.

"Only postponed for a few minutes?" I nodded and Erik lifted his hand to glide it across my jaw and into my hair. He kissed me softly, possessing me completely with the suppressed desire in his lips, and then stood to remove his mask. He had to rummage through his small pack and I stared wantonly at his naked ass and long legs as he bent to find what he needed. Desire burned in my belly and warmed me between my legs. I needed something to distract us from picking up right where we just left off.

As he poured the solvent down his cheek, I spied the many bottles of oils and began lifting them to see if they smelled different from one another. I definitely wanted to rub his entire hard body with the slippery liquids, and if he wanted to do the same to me, who was I to resist? I found one that I liked and held it in my lap as Erik came back to the bed.

"I want to massage you." I boldly told my husband and he obliged by lying on his stomach. I straddled his backside and he sighed.

"When you said you wanted me beneath you, I thought I would be facing the other way." I restrained myself from laughing at his disappointed tone and leaned down to his ear.

"Later, my husband. Be patient." He smiled and cradled his head on his arms while I uncorked the glass bottle. I poured a small quantity of oil in my hands and rubbed them together first, before smoothing my slippery hands down his back. The oil left a glistening sheen to his skin and my lips pulled into a satisfied smile at the perfect male specimen beneath me. His scars were still horrific but they were the past. Our future was open and moldable before us. I dabbed my fingers up his spine and across his shoulders, making a large T of shiny oil. I felt like I was anointing him instead of massaging so I began to press my fingers into his tight muscles. He made a contented noise beneath me, which encouraged me to continue in the same vein. I pressed and squeezed and rubbed his body. His sinewy shoulders and arms, his firm sculpted and scarred back, his round buttocks, his lean thighs, his tight calves, his long white feet. Every inch of his back side was oiled, rubbed and massaged. I wanted him to roll over so I could try massaging some other areas of his body.

I laid out beside him and smiled at his closed eyes. I loved that he allowed himself to relax around me when no one else ever saw this side of him.

"Erik?" My answer was a snuffly breath but his eyes did not open and his silent, even breathing continued. "Erik?" I wanted to run my fingers through his tousled hair but my hands were still oily. Instead I leaned close and nuzzled his ear and kissed his smooth cheek. Nothing.

My husband was fast asleep.

Part of me wanted to laugh, but part of me wanted to shake him awake so we could consummate our union. "This is not happening," I giggled under my breath, watching his sleeping visage for any sign of wakefulness. He was completely out. I couldn't help sighing dramatically. This was not at all as I imagined our wedding night.

I stared at his familiar face, willing him to wake and make love to me. I could rouse him, but for him to fall asleep tonight must mean that he was utterly exhausted. I rose to put out some of the candles and lamps and to wash my hands. Erik shifted to his side as I crawled into bed next to him and my heart fluttered with yearning. Would he wake?

I barely breathed waiting for his eyes to open, but they did not. I stretched out sullenly next to him and pulled the blanket over us both. But the longer I lay next to him, watching him sleep, the more I liked that this would be our wedding night. Sleeping peacefully side by side, never alone again, even in sleep. I would sorely miss the esctasy of his touch, tonight of all nights, but as he shifted and settled in his peaceful slumber, a small smile curled his lips. I stared at that tiny smile until it faded away, and then I gazed at his smooth exposed cheek, his straight proud nose and his long black lashes.

Him and I shared our passion almost every night since that first exquisite night after his proposal. I'd been looking so forward to tonight, to the marital act that I was very familiar with, carrying nothing but our love and passion. Our sin was gone. My guilt was gone, snatched away by the hand of God. I felt entirely at peace and judging from my slumbering husband, he was at peace as well. I yearned to be entirely one with him, but how would this night of marital relations have been any different from any of the other experiences we've shared, no matter how long we drew it out, no matter how engulfed in flames we became?

Now though, tonight was certainly shaping up to be a very different type of memorable evening.

"I love you so," I whispered at his slack lips before kissing them tenderly and curling up next to him. His arm reached out and curled around my waist to bring me into the circle of his body, but he did not wake. I smiled as I relaxed into his embrace, my face next to his beating heart, and joined him in blissful slumber.

**_Author's note: Don't hate me for cutting it off there! This chapter got ridiculously out of control long and I had to chop it into two parts. So this was the wedding. What did you think? Nice? Boring?_**

**_Don't worry...the next chapter will have the honeymooning :D_**


	64. Good or Evil

_**Author's note: WARNING ! ! ! ! SEX SEX and more SEX ! ! ! ...it is their honeymoon after all...**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Christine**

I slept well, nestled next to my slippery man, but as soon as the tiniest bit of light touched my lids, I woke, and was surprised to find Erik still asleep. I touched him worriedly. Has he not been sleeping lately?

His arms meandered around me and he pulled me close, still half sleeping. Those long, wandering hands slid lazily over my hips and buttocks and up into my hair before they froze and I knew he'd finally woken up.

"I fell asleep?" He sounded mortified and disappointed, and I schooled myself not to laugh.

"So did I." I stretched against him, "We've had a few stressful days, but now we can relax all week and..."

"I fell asleep." His groan was more resigned now, but also very annoyed.

"No sense dwelling on it," I gave him a quick good morning kiss. "Might as well make the best of it. If we get out of bed now, so you can give me the tour in the morning light, then we can have breakfast and maybe, get back into bed for the rest of the day?" I wondered if he would balk at the idea of forgoing marital relations until later, but he rolled and stretched and yawned.

"Damn sunrise," he muttered before fixing me with those stunning eyes. "I'm sorry, Christine."

I grinned and maneuvered myself on top of him. "It was very adorable."

His hands fit themselves to my derrière. "I wanted our night to be erotic, not adorable."

"There is plenty of time for erotic later," I whispered at his lips before kissing them gently.

"It's my own fault," he sighed as he felt his way up and down my back. "I've been working too hard."

"Mmm Hmm..." I'd figured as much. Why else would my passionate man fall asleep on our wedding night?

"And you want your tour now?" He was letting me decide what our next move would be, instead of controling our passion, as he easily could, even though his hands were suggestively massaging my backside.

"I waited all this time to see the house, I think you can wait an hour to lay with your wife? It's not as if we haven't made love before."

"A tour of the house will not take a whole hour." He was frowning at me and I laughed as I shimmied from his embrace.

"I said breakfast too, Erik." I tickled him quickly and he squirmed away, laughing lightly.

"Your wish is my desire, my wife." He promised dramatically and I gazed into his eyes.

"I _am_ your wife." My smile stretched, fulfilled just from hearing my new title, and Erik stilled. His eyes darkened with desire before he closed them and took a deep breath.

"Tour, breakfast, bed." He was all business for the next ten minutes, grabbing wrappers, setting fires, filling kettles. He disappeared for a few minutes through one door and returned through another.

"This is the kitchen." He started abruptly, waving his arm outward, gesturing around us. "Once the bed is upstairs, the table will go there, if that suits you?" His eyebrow arched and I nodded, not wanting to talk and ruin his tour. "Come with me?" He held out his hand and led me out of one of the many doors. The hall was wide and only grew wider the further you traveled. Close to the kitchen was the formal dining room and sitting room, both without furniture yet and only an empty hole where I was pretty sure a fireplace would go in the sitting room. The room was a nice size with a large window overlooking the land between our house and Nadir's. It would be perfect to wait here in this room if someone was coming to visit. Erik stood at the door as I looked out the window, and followed, when I hurried across the hall.

The dining room had a bench seat at the window, and as I drew near, I could see the stream sparkling in the morning sun directly out the window.

"I will sit here every morning! Do you think there will be ducks in the spring? It's beautiful, Erik. I love it all."

"You haven't even seen the whole house yet," he spoke from the door and I spun around happily.

"I don't need to. Everything you do is perfect."

"If you don't need to, then..." His head tilted back towards the kitchen and I took his hand and pulled him down the hall with a laugh.

"I still want to see the rest of the house."

The front doors were exquisite. Narrow portions down the middle of both doors were made of multicoloured stained glass. I ran my fingers down the cold glass and over the dark wood.

"Beautiful." I had a feeling I was going to run out of words by the end of the tour. My fairytale prince had indeed been building me a dream castle.

Erik showed me a toilet room with a large mirror off the foyer and a small unfinished room with beams holding up the wall, that Erik said would be his office, at one side of the front door. Stairs curved upwards around the first corner and I started to climb before Erik pulled lightly on my hand.

"One more room down here."

He led me to the end of the hall, where I thought doors only opened to the grass and the stream a few hops away, but there were doors to both sides as well. Erik only opened the door on the left and we entered the most spectacular room I'd ever seen. It could only be our conservatory. The ceiling angled upward, climbing to generous heights. Windows stretched from floor to ceiling along the wall with the stream, making the room look like it spilled into the outdoors. Heavy curtains could certainly be hung to pull over them, but I marveled at the light and nature that came into this room. Sparkling, reflective light danced across the opposite wall of blue and green tiles around the fireplace. The floor looked freshly waxed and bluish colours shimmered like the whole room was inside the stream. I could have potted plants everywhere and a fainting chair to relax in while staring at the rippling stream and the piano...

The piano was no piano at all. Long pipes hugged the stone wall, seeming to grow from the house itself, as if music would be built into its very walls. I touched the organ's keys lightly, not wanting to make a sound.

"That bit is more for me." He sounded sheepish and apologetic, and I looked over my shoulder.

"It's marvelous, Erik. You've done so much work. Now, I know what has been stealing your sleep." I turned a happy circle, taking in what I knew would be my favorite room in the house. "I can't wait to hear you play. I can't wait to sing in here." There was a red leather folder, sitting neatly on the organ stand, and I let my hand brush over the smooth leather, before curiously opening the folder.

"That binder is full of music for you. We can sing right now if you like." I let my eyes weigh Erik's posture. He seemed oddly tensed and I wondered if it had something to do with not consummating our marriage. But then, he just now suggested singing, which would prolong the inevitable.

"Let's sing later," I decided, turning one more awed circle before my eyes came back to my husband. He was very still, watching me. His face was thoughtful and calm, but there was a duality to his expression because of his missing cheek. Even when he was calm, the torn away skin looked angry. The bruise-like colors and scars of long ago nails curved upward just enough to make it seem like the missing cheek could grin maniacally all on its own. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but instead I smiled for my spouse. He only stared, with that strange, unreadable expression on his face.

"I wrote that music for you..." he lowered his eyes. "The night before our wedding, I could not fathom going to bed without you. You have become an integral part of my life, an integral part of me. I do not know when it happened exactly, but I don't know what to do with myself when you are not around. And yet..." He looked up and I saw wild thoughts in his eyes. "This day was never truly meant to come..." he murmured softly gazing at me with wonder, before his eyes dropped to the floor. "I have worked very hard on this house for us, but it's not finished, it's not perfect. It is not the wedding gift I had hoped to present to you, and there were moments when I wondered why I was putting so much effort into something that would never be lived in." He didn't look up again so he had no idea of the perplexed expression on my face. "You see, I...never imagined you would actually marry me. It was just my dream. This house was just a dream. My life has been nothing but a dream since the day you cried for your father on the rooftops of the opera house..." He paused and put his hand to his chest. "I've never known such love, Christine. It's straight out of my fantasy and...it seemed unrealistic to believe in such a fantasy. I kept waiting to wake up and find myself alone...I am entirely unworthy of you...I am just a broken shell..." His piercing eyes lifted, full of love, desire, gratitude and longing, and they seemed to draw me in, consuming my vision. "But you...ma chardonnerette...you look at the imperfect house I've built, as if it is made of gold. You champion me at every turn. You...You mend me, where I was once broken. I felt you were meant to be mine, but I never thought...you make me complete, Christine." I realized I had moved towards him without consciously telling my body to do so. I stood before my powerful mate, staring into those captivating eyes, feeling the energy of his body, and he reached up to touch my cheek. "You feel it as well..." He searched my face as he stroked my cheek adoringly. "Thank you, my dear...for fashioning my dream into reality...for marrying me and making me so incredibly, indescribably happy."

I grabbed the waist of his robe, stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his with urgency. I didn't like that he'd been thinking all those terrible things about himself and hadn't said anything. Why was he thanking me for making his dreams come true when he was the one doing that for me? My hands roamed over his back, around his waist and up his chest, so I could twirl my fingers into his hair and pull his lips even closer. I hated hearing him so weak when it wasn't a trait I ever bestowed him with. I made sure to express how strongly I felt for him before releasing him.

"We were destined to love." I willed the thought to stick in his head, before following him out and starting up the stairs. He was very silent and tense as we ascended the curved staircase and I had a feeling, that although he'd just claimed I made him indescribably happy, he was not happy at the moment.

The second floor was very incomplete and I realized that was probably the reason for his silent frustration. His perfectionism was rankling. The entire floor was open space dotted with beams that were supporting the ceiling, pipes that ended a foot off the ground, sprouting up like random flowers, and piles of materials stacked up neatly. The far end of the hall had a single door along a long, half built, white wall. I grinned just seeing that singular door. Our bedroom. Not finished yet, but I was excited anyway. I pulled him across the long open space, that had plenty of room for children's bedrooms, and he opened the door for me. At first I thought he lit a lamp for us here, but as I crossed the threshold I realized the light was coming from the roof. I looked up and saw the sky above me. There was a huge hole in the ceiling of our bedroom.

"Is that...?"

"Not finished." He stood at attention, glaring at the hole in the roof. "There was supposed to be a window there to allow us to gaze at the night and morning sky, but for some reason the angle of the roof causes flexing in the frame of the window and the glass cracks even though I decreased the chances of such an occurrence by precisely calculating the best shape for maximum forces to be balanced..." He trailed off at my raised brows. "Technical problems that I will sort out," he promised shortly.

"I've never seen a window in a roof before."

"If no one ever attempted new ideas, we would still be living in caves. I will figure it out," he was frowning at the opening and I could see the calculations whipping through his head. Since he was occupied, I moved off to inspect the many doors leading from our room. There were just as many up here as in the kitchen. One had no door and opened to a dressing room with rows of empty hangers. One opened to an opulent bathing room with rich fabrics and linens, a painting of water lilies on one wall, and a bathtub big enough for two. The last door led down a narrow flight of stairs. I turned to ask Erik where it led, but he was up a ladder, with the top half of his body disappearing into the hole in the roof. I could hear him muttering under his breath and assumed this extravagance was the only reason we were sleeping in the kitchen. The rest of the room looked livable. There was a huge dresser along one wall with a long window above it, instead of a mirror. Two chairs banked either side of a small fireplace, with a bookcase already half filled with books. There was a carpet rolled up on one side of the room and another already hanging from the wall. I turned a slow circle, appreciating the space and the room darkened considerably.

Erik had pulled a piece of something over the hole and was climbing back down the ladder.

"See how much light it allows for? The idea is sound. I will figure it out," he repeated and I stepped into his arms and sighed.

"It's a beautiful house, Erik. It may be unfinished, but did not see any of the imperfections you spoke of. I love it all. I love you too." He laughed against me.

"I love you, Christine. None of this means anything without you." He held me tight and I had to mention what he'd revealed in our music room.

"How could you ever think you are unworthy of my love?" My voice was quiet and he curled his embrace around me.

"I am evil, Christine," he whispered, as if afraid for someone else to hear. "You are sweet and innocent and everything good...I was even afraid that a stranger in the church would call out to stop our wedding."

"Erik..."

"I am at peace with the darkness inside me, you've helped me to control it better." He pulled back and gazed at me in adoration. "I may not deserve you, but you are mine. Forever." His eyes hardened just slightly. "You cannot escape from me now." I could still see the bit of fear in him. It exasperated me but also hurt me to know he wasn't sure of my heart.

"I am your wife, your life partner," I asserted, holding his face between my hands. "Trap me forever in your embrace?" I offered to lighten the mood and let my eyes flutter shut in invitation. My husband ended the tour with a sizzling kiss of bone deep possession and passion in our darkened bedroom.

**Erik**

We ate a light breakfast of coffee and biscuits and then I made sure we headed straight back to bed. I stripped the robe from her body and tossed it away while she laughed.

"Someone is eager," she gave me a coy look over her shoulder as she crawled into bed. Words were hard to formulate with all her naked, golden flesh on display, so I did not try. I followed her into bed and took her in my arms. A shudder of warmth and pleasure went through me as our limbs tangled and our breath mingled. This was heaven right here.

My hands slid over her silky skin as she kissed my face. Sweet little kisses explored my whole face and I wanted to take her right away. I wanted to find instantaneous bliss within her, but I was more concerned with making up for last night.

It was unacceptable for me to have fallen asleep, on the first night of our complete union. What kind of husband was I to fall asleep on the one night when making love to her was my right? I would make up for it now.

I slid down her body to see to her pleasure before seeking my own, but she pulled on me. "Erik?"

I met her fiery gaze and knew what she wanted. Her eyes held impatience and urgency and my hands felt their way over her face and into her hair, to grasp tight handfuls.

"I love you," I growled at her mouth.

"I know," she whispered as our bodies slid together.

I knew she would not find ecstasy with such a fast joining, but she encouraged me towards completion with her pretty moans and throaty groans of pleasure. It was hard to concentrate with her pleasure laced vocals in my ears, but I wanted to take my time, so I slowed my body and rocked against her, over and over, kissing her neck and ears and chin. Her grip on me was tightening and at first I thought she may be climaxing. It took me a moment to realize she was crying.

I pulled back, unsure of everything all over again, but she grabbed at me. "Stay here, don't stop, I'm just being silly." She tugged me back into place, with my face in her neck and she stroked my head. "I was expecting it to be the same...but it doesn't feel the same." I could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "It feels...more...I don't know...just more...don't you feel it?" She felt a difference in our love making? From a verbal ceremony in front of a crowd of strangers?

I smiled and kissed her neck, tracing the curve up to her ear. "Ma chardonnerette...this is why I love you so..."

"Because I'm a silly goose?" she whispered.

"No, you are not silly. You are sweet, sweeter than the honey we tasted last night. How could something we've done a hundred times feel any..." Her lips crushed to mine and she kissed me like she was drowning in our love, like we'd never kissed before and all our unrequited love was pouring into me from her. She pushed her hips up and then pressed them down to slide her own body over mine and my body responded quickly, as I tried to do everything all at once to her. Kiss, touch, cherish, worship and bring to completion all at once. It was impossible, of course, to stay tender, and as my grip hardened on her hip, I blearily pulled back, knowing I wanted to be gentle and loving with my wife. "Oh my," left my lips as we parted.

"What?" She panted, with a dark light in her eyes.

"I see what you mean about...more..." I nuzzled her face before setting our burning lips together again. It did feel different now that I was paying attention. There were no boundaries to our love. We were free from constraints, imagined, self-inflicted and otherwise. We could love however we chose to, and we were quickly consumed by need so intense that our nails dug into each other's flesh. A wild fire raced through us, causing me to bite her and her to grasp onto me tightly, wrapping her legs around my waist.

"Yes, Erik," she begged with a whimper, as my body eagerly buried itself into her over and over until all thought left my head. She moved with me, flexing her hips back and forth to meet my thrusts. She'd never been so physically wanton before and I growled in primal lust for my beautiful bride. "Take me..." she breathed, helping me make love to her with her erotic movements. "Take me Erik..."

I pinned her wrists down by her head and pushed up slightly so I could watch her face as we made love for the first time as man and wife. Her eyes burned brightly, searing me with her desire before they traveled down our bodies to where I was pumping in and out of her. I watched her, watching us and became so engorged with lust that I hauled her up the bed to press her to the headboard. Her legs hugged my hips as I knelt at the head of the bed and began a whole new deeper rhythm. She arched back, her fingers digging into my scalp as she grasped handfuls of hair.

"Sweet Christine..." I murmured, as I slowly brought our bodies together, pressing every hard, aching inch deep inside her. She held onto the headboard, holding herself in position for me to take. Her legs were spread around my hips and her breasts thrust towards me as she arched back over the top of the headboard, encouraging me with fluttering lashes and grateful sounds. I grabbed the headboard behind her, to pin her more thoroughly, and her hands cupped my face. I stared into her vibrant, golden gaze, caught within the fire in her eyes. I thoroughly enjoyed this position and could have continued to press her into the headboard until I, or we came, but I remembered her poor back the last time I lost my mind. I held her body tight, to not lose contact, and laid her on the bed once more. One of her legs though, stayed up, caught up over my arm and it gave me a wicked thought. I brought her other leg up and caressed her legs in one long bended line from ankle to hip. We were staring into each other's eyes again, not moving, but still burning with the raging fire of our exquisite love. She squirmed gently beneath me, and as I adjusted her hips to better suit our needs, she moaned my name.

"Erik..." the sweet sound of her voice...

It was a race to the end. Our bodies bucked in time to the dance of desperate lovers. She accepted me deep into her body, begging for more, whispering her love and scratching my arms in throes of pleasure. I had one hand wrapped around her ankle as I drove myself into her, over and over, and she arched and squirmed and pushed herself back into me as best she could. We were wild and untamed and I know we bit each other and scratched at each other and fulfilled a longing buried so deep that this was its first surfacing. Now that we truly belonged to one another, we released all our inhibitions and the sex was...animalistic.

She cried out as she found release, a long throaty moan of ecstasy. I was with her. I thrust one last time, feeling my mind, body and soul empty itself into her. I shuddered above her and then flopped my head down to her smooth shoulder. We panted in rhythm, our sweat slicked bodies tangled together. One of her legs was still up over my shoulder and I gently guided it down to a more comfortable position. Her legs squeezed around me and then dropped to the bed and I noticed a bite mark on her shoulder.

"I was...that is...it was...how did...never mind..." Christine sighed in my ear and tingles traveled down my spine. I gathered my wife in my arms and kissed the mark my teeth had made.

"Mine," I breathed hotly into her neck and she brushed her lips on my damp forehead, pressing tiny kisses there like butterflies before her arms tightened around me. She found the strength to raise one leg and wrap it around me to hold my entire body with hers. She squeezed me tightly.

"Mine." Her usually gentle voice said the word with strong conviction and I raised my weary head to look in her eyes.

My wife was radiant. She was fierce in her declaration and a smile curved my lips as I brought them to hers. Our kiss was gentle and languid, soft and searching and when we parted, Christine followed with small teasing kisses.

"I do not know if I have the strength so quickly." I joked as I basked in her love, enjoying her sweet expressions, with little kisses and gentle touches.

"We have all day..." she murmured. "All week..." her mouth was on my neck so she felt my small grunt of approval. She licked my jaw and I stretched my neck for her but instead of continuing down, she traveled up. Her tongue glided over my monstrous face, dipped into the crevices, and played along the edge. I'd practically forgotten I was deformed and fiery sensations shot through me as she learned the taste of my ugliness. She warmed and whetted my cheek as her actions warmed and whetted my lust. Her tongue delved into my ear and I growled, growing hungry for her again in record time.

"What is this power?" I whispered as I rolled her above me. She tossed her hair back and I let my eyes skim down her beautiful form as she straddled me.

"Love." She smiled knowingly and I reached up to touch her chin. She was beautiful beyond expression and I felt humbled that this radiant creature was mine, no matter of my deformed face.

"My goddess..." my fingers trailed down her neck, between her breasts, over her hip and down her thigh. Her body rippled with emotion, her lashes fluttering, but they opened again and our fire was there once more. Her hands slid over my stomach and she bit her lip as she calculated something in her head. "What are you thinking goddess?"

"How to best please my husband?" She bent to whisper at my mouth before swirling her tongue inside. My hands felt hot as they rode over her back.

"Everything you do, pleases me."

"Is that so..." she giggled girlishly as she nipped on my ear lobe.

I spread my fingers on her lower back, feeling the soft curve of her backside as it sloped upward. She wiggled for me and I was smiling like a lovesick schoolboy.

"Do you like this?" She bit me lightly on the neck and then suckled gently.

"Yes." I tried not to squirm at her focused attentions.

"Do you like this?" She shimmied down my body to kiss my chest and twirl her tongue around my nipple.

"Yes."

"Do you like this?" She grasped my cock in her hand and fixed her passion-filled, golden eyes on me as she stroked slowly.

"Yessss." I hissed. My eyes fluttered closed as my body began encouraging her to continue. She stopped and I could feel her straddling my legs, sitting perfectly still. I opened my eyes and she was biting her lip again.

"Do you like...this?" Her question was softer, more unsure of the answer, and her hands trailed slowly up her body. She touched her stomach lightly and brushed her fingers over her breasts. Her hands flattened around her neck and up into her hair. She gathered as much hair as she could in one sweep of her hands and I was propping myself on my elbows for a better view.

My heart was beating rapidfire as she left one hand holding her hair and dragged the other down one side of her face and over her neck. She caressed her breast and arched into her hand, making my erection jump with longing. Was this sensual vixen my sweet, innocent wife?

I watched her touch her skin and play with her hair and my heavy breathing began to become noticeable to her. Those bewitching light filled eyes twinkled at me as they opened and she crawled closer, brushing our noses together.

"Did you like that, husband?" She whispered with a confident quirk to her lips.

"Yes." I was a man of few words this time around. My hands re-claimed all the skin that she had just possessed, and I guided her over my ready arousal. Our joining caused gasps from both our mouths but her eyes shone with victory.

"I knew you would like it..." she bit her lip as her head fell back and her hands came back to her body. She ran them over her stomach and breasts as I bounced her lightly over me. She was making it difficult to concentrate on any sort of finesse on my part, because the sight of her touching herself was entirely intoxicating. I wanted to be those hands. I was jealous of her own hands! She swept her hair up and then let it drop as she came forward into my arms. She playfully held her distance, coyly touching my face.

"Kiss me?" I pleaded, knowing she would far outlast me this time. Our mouths met fiercely and she moved her hips down, in a way that I could certainly help with. I slid one hand up to her neck so I could nibble on her succulent mouth at leisure, and the other hand pressed down on her ass, to fuse us closer together. Instead of bouncing her, I rocked against her, back and forth, and I was rewarded with a moan. It was like flipping a switch inside her. She began to gyrate against me, pressing harder and harder, grinding into me, driving me into the bed, and as she called my name with a shuddering gasp, I could hold myself no longer.

She collapsed on me, panting lightly and I swept my hands up and down the curve of her back, marveling at the satin-like skin.

"Did you like that, wife?" I prodded softly, after a few minutes of slowing heart rates.

"Very much..." she purred as she slid down from her perch. Her arms, and her entire body, was heavy and lazy as they draped over me. "Let's do it again..."

I chuckled and breathed deep. I felt like I could conquer the world, but much rather preferred to taste her a few more times. I stared at her peaceful face. Her eyes were closed, her lips, lush and swollen with our love. Her cheeks were rosy with our efforts, her delicate woman's arm thrown over my stomach. This was my wife, my life partner, as she described it. I felt something shift inside me, and I gathered her closer, letting our embrace speak for me. At long last, we were one. I felt entirely whole, and was delirious with the feel of it.

We drifted blissfully for awhile. Time did not matter. We languished in bed, just enjoying the complete feeling of laying naked next to one another. My fingers intermittently tangled in her hair and sketched down her back, while her fingers drifted over my body. We touched, played, teased and talked, content to just be with each other for now. We had a whole week to spend intimately, there was no reason to wear ourselves out the first day. Any words were spoken in soft tones and we both could feel the special intimacy of our spousal bed, and therefore did not want to leave the warm cocoon.

We finally emerged at some time in the afternoon to bathe. Not that we particularly needed to, but I wanted to show off the bathtub in our chamber. It used a pump method to siphon water, hot from the kitchen fire. With the stream so close it was easy to always have a fresh supply of hot or cold water, and I wanted to silently boast of my engineering skills. Christine walked around, touching everything in the bathing room while I readied the bath. Her expressive face showed her genuine awe clearly, and I felt slightly puffed up as we bathed and helped each other wash.

When we finished I led her out through the unfinished second floor, barely noticing the disarray, down the curving stairs, to our conservatory. I was proud of the grand windows and though they were not the best for acoustics, they were spectacular to look through. It gave the room a majesty that was hard to complain of. The fire was settled nicely and it was warm by the organ, though I immediately made a mental note to get large draperies for the windows as soon as possible.

It was past time for us to truly sing together. That one time at Cameron's home was enough to let me know it would be a thing of magic were we to sing with all our hearts and souls. Now that we were wed and any reactions to my music were solely for us to discover, I led Christine to stand by the bench.

Before singing together, I wanted to play once, just for her, so my hands came down on the keys with precise abandon, and I sang with all my heart for my angel wife. It turned out to be an erotic experience, as half way through my song, Christine infiltrated my lap and pressed her heated lips to mine, effectively cutting off all music. Her hands quickly divulged me of my robe as she sought my skin.

"You are irresistible..." she rubbed herself against me like a cat in heat, all the while devouring my lips roughly. "A siren of sensual energy...singing songs in my head..." Her voice was trembling and I made her gasp as I took her firmly in my arms. I met her kiss with equal vigor, dancing my fingers to the edge of her body's entrance.

I had my answer for how she would react to my music, and though I was enjoying every erotic second, I wondered if this magic between us would ever be contained. Was it only sexual? Could we channel it and create the most passionate piece ever performed? Could I wield this power over anyone, or even over a whole audience?

I pulled Christine tighter to me. She was my goddess, my angel, my muse, and my wife. Why would I want to share this magic between us with anyone else? I began singing to her again, my choice of instrument much softer on the fingers, but my love and passion for her was unchanged and slowly enveloping me to take over my entire being. I curled my voice into her ears, wanting to please her, and only her. I was her servant. The only time I ever mattered was when her golden eyes were upon me. I wanted to give her more love than I ever had before. I wanted to fill her to the brim and beyond with all the emotion I felt for her. Christine whimpered weakly as I sang to her of our passion and slid my fingers into her body.

She clung desperately to me as I made love to her with my fluid, melodious voice dancing in her ears and my gentle, insistent hand between her legs. She rode a powerful wave of pleasure as she climaxed in my lap and I shook with her, my song halting into deafening silence.

I felt as if the pleasure was shared equally between us, as if I were a conduit for her completion. A succubus, feeding off her sexual energy, but that was a strange errant thought.

I held her tight as she trembled and shuddered, her breath coming in odd gasps, and I noticed my rapid heart beat. Why was I so incredibly exhilarated? Her fingers were trying to grasp weakly at me and I closed my eyes to focus myself. My own breath was matching her odd gasps and I pushed the hair from her face to look at her.

"Christine?" I spoke her name gently and her reaction stunned me. A shiver passed through her and then she sagged with utter weariness, practically fainting in my lap. Without speaking another word, I quickly lifted and carried Christine out of the room and back to our bed. Her head hung heavily over my arm, her entire body a dead weight in my arms. I laid her down gently, and her eyes never opened as a smile stretched slowly across her face.

"Lay with me," she purred softly between dewy lips. She patted the bed, barely moving, and my heart was racing for a whole different reason. I did not fully understand the power of my voice. I was still learning about my capabilities. I had no idea the power I held over her while I was singing, and there was a strong possibility I just completely and utterly hypnotized my wife.

I laid next to her, taking her into my arms, as my heart raced with guilt and shame. Her body was still heavy with weariness as she welcomed me next to her. I held her to me, but I could feel that I was not relaxed, and knew she would notice.

"Erik?" She lifted her head lazily, her lashes fluttering in a romantic way, though the golden gleam behind them was dulled. "I'm sorry I'm too tired for more." Her forehead fell to my chest and she giggled tiredly as she drifted to sleep, mumbling about the songs in her head.

My heart was pounding, as I cradled her in my arms and rolled her to her back. I looked down into her peaceful, innocently sleeping face and tears threatened to collect. Why was I so stupid? What ever possessed me to make love to her with my voice? I bowed my head to hers as my fingers tightened in her hair. "I'm so sorry..."

I watched her sleep all through the afternoon, imagining every outcome to my foolish actions. I cursed myself one minute, and the next, told myself that it would be fine. Think positive and she will wake, and all will be well.

As the room began to darken with the setting sun there was a sharp knock on the door that startled Christine awake. She clutched at me under the blankets and I soothed her with a sweep of my hand. "Our supper. They were instructed to knock and leave."

She relaxed but breathed out, "Who?"

"Berou or Molly, or both, I don't particularly care." I was in no hurry to get up just yet, having more important things to figure out, and pulled Christine closer. "Are you hungry, pet? How do you feel?"

"Hmm," she gave me a sultry look and shifted to bite my neck gently. "I am very hungry..." she purred, kissing my collarbone softly.

I felt my body hardening for her, as she slid her curves over me, trailing her warm tongue down my neck. I momentarily thought of giving in, but I was thinking of how horrid an animal I was, which made me think of wild animals coming for our hot supper, which is the best reason I have for saying what I did.

"Animals..." was all I managed to choke out before Christine sucked hard on my nipple. She stopped immediately and looked up at me with confused bright golden eyes.

"What did you say?" Her lips were quirking in amusement and she seemed to be suffering no lingering ill effects of my voice.

"Wild animals," I swallowed. "Will come for our supper. I should bring it in." She backed up from me to allow me to exit the bed and I glanced around for my robe before realizing it was left discarded by the organ. Tension sang through me as I cursed my earlier stupidity at letting my guard down and I roughly opened the door, completely naked. Who was there to see anyway?

Christine tittered softly behind me as she settled against the pillows and pulled the blankets up under her chin. I brought in the basket and put the large covered pot straight over our own fire. I asked Christine if she needed anything before leaving to fetch our robes. When I returned, she was still resting against the pillows, and smiled serenely. She definitely seemed tired and slightly drained of her usual shine. I could not help standing over her, a shadow of regret cast over her face.

"How do you feel?" I tucked a curl behind her ear, unable to resist asking again.

"Marvelous." Her eyes suddenly twinkled as she smiled up at me, and I brushed my fingers on her brow and down her cheek, unable to return her smile. "What have they brought us?" She reached for her robe and I quickly helped her into it, glad to see her moving normally.

"Rabbit stew in the pot, and other assorted foods in the basket." She opened the top and began emptying the contents onto the table, bustling to a cupboard to fetch a bowl and knife. I watched her for a few minutes and felt myself relaxing once more. She didn't seem to be negatively affected and I lowered myself into one of the chairs to stare at my fragile, domestic goddess.

She played the perfect housewife, sorting everything into their places, making us some tea and fetching bowls for our stew. She set the table with our dinner, and instead of sitting in her own chair, slid her body next to mine and shimmied gracefully into my lap.

"You are very quiet?" She searched my face, her fingers combing through my hair. I should have known I could hide nothing from her.

I brought our foreheads together and took a deep breath. "I think I was a naughty boy."

She giggled and wiggled in my lap, thinking I was only jesting with her, or making an innuendo. "Mmmm my naughty Erik." She kissed my cheek and my fingers spread on her back, to pull her close.

"How did it feel, when I sang to you Christine?" She stilled in my lap and I could feel her small, hot breaths on the back of my neck.

"I felt you." She whispered and I tightened my hold.

"I'm sorry, I should not have done that...I swear I will never..." Her fingers touched my mouth to stop me.

"It was...incredible, Erik." We stared into each other's eyes as I weighed what she was revealing. "It was indescribable. I could feel you, I could feel the shape of you in my mind, your strength, your power. I could feel your thoughts, and the depth of your love..." she ducked her head to rest it on my shoulder. "I wish I could do the same for you."

"No. No you do not. It is unnatural. Not only that, but it is pure evil that I took over your conscious..." Her fingers were pressing to my mouth again.

"Hush darling." I hushed for her, even though inside, I was screaming my apologies. Why did I think I could have a normal marriage with her? There was nothing normal about me. Why would anything I do, be normal? It was all destined to be insane and terrible, just like everything in my life. Is this what God wanted for Christine? Surely not? How could he trust her in my hands? I was going to ruin her. Drain her of all her innocence, beauty and light, and leave a withered husk behind...

Christine lifted her head and kissed my mouth gently. "Let's just eat supper," she said softly before moving into her own chair. I felt cold without her in my lap and I swallowed a few mouthfuls of the scalding stew without tasting it. Her hand suddenly stopped mine and the look on her face was perplexing. What was she thinking behind those tormented, bright gold eyes?

I didn't have to wait long to find out. She stood with my hand in hers and led me to the bed. She unraveled the knot in my robe and slid it off my shoulders. Her eyes took in my naked body and when our eyes met again she undid her own robe. She gracefully let it fall to the floor and then stepped into my embrace. Her cheek nuzzled to my chest for a moment and then she pulled me back into our bed.

"Christine..." I certainly had a few misgivings, but she shushed me.

"No speaking." She ordered quietly as she lay down and pulled me with her. She showed me with the caress of her hands and mouth that our love was untouchable. This passion between us was magical and cosmic. We were set apart from other love. We were alight with the burning passion of some higher plane. It was quite difficult to argue with myself that any of it could possibly be wrong or insane or terrible.

I felt like we channeled the primordial force of love, straight from Eros' finger. I was rough with her, as I hated myself for it, but she reveled in my hard touch. I did not speak to her one word. If I was meant to love her silently, then I would. What need did I have for words when her naked body was here for me to kiss and nibble?

We came together time after time, in turns gentle and not so gentle, until the fire had burned to nothing, the room was black as pitch, and we were both too exhausted to move. I was in a state of seperation in my mind. I was contented and pleasured, holding my Christine tenderly as we drifted to sleep, but part of my mind was scared. We were married, and we were one body, one mind, one soul. I wanted to let go of my fear but it had reared its head and ruined my peace. Was it possible for me to ever fully love her safely?

**Christine**

I could feel the daylight in the room and I stretched in bed, arching my back and reaching for the headboard with searching fingers. I touched the hard, carved wood with fond memory and then rolled to curl next to Erik.

"Good morning." He murmured, as his arm cradled me to his side and he planted a kiss on my brow.

"Good morning, lover." I kissed his chest, wanting to just straddle him and start up where we left off. A laugh shook his chest as I licked the scar that ran through his nipple. His stomach growled and mine responded in quick succession.

"This is what happens when we are too distracted by the pleasures of the flesh." His long hand grasped my derrière firmly as his heated eyes and tiny smile made me want to fall on him in a frenzy. I was very happy to see him smiling. He was so serious last night, worrying himself over silly things. I knew I did the same, worrying ineffectively, but I was hoping that we could both learn to relax a bit more and trust each other.

"The best type of distraction," I reached for his lips, yearning to be one with him again. I didn't know how I could still want him so badly, when I should be sore. But it felt so amazing when he touched me, so alive and vibrant, colorful and cosmic, when our souls came together in passion, that I cared little for the physical discomfort. Our love was beyond the physical realm.

He growled into our kiss, "Christine..." and my heart picked up pace.

"I can't help it..." I slid my body on top of his and he accepted me into his arms. "Are you saying no?" I paused momentarily in my exploration of his chest and he pulled me up to see his very serious expression.

"Never." He rolled over me and I let out a squeak at the quick change is position. He fixed his mouth on my neck, suckling expertly before licking his way to my ear. "I love when you make little squeaking noises," he purred in my ear.

"I don't squeak," I tried but he only laughed that sexual roll of vibrations.

"Whatever you wish, my wife." Our bodies and minds joined together in the act of love. It was the most invigorating sensation to feel my soul reaching out to his, and to feel his, there to hold me. We tangled together, reaching for ecstasy and finding it already well within our hands. I held him tightly as he took my body, wondering if he would ever again make love to me as he did yesterday.

He was appalled that he'd done it, but I was intoxicated by his abilities. He'd sung to me, as he touched me, and I'd felt my mind melt into his with total submission. My trust in him had allowed the transition to happen smoothly and I didn't even realize he was controlling my mind until afterwards when he released me. And it didn't even feel as if he was controlling me. It felt more as if he'd pulled me within his mind, cradled me in the contours of his thoughts.

Everything during that time was so excitingly vivid and excruciatingly pleasurable, that I did wish I could feel it again. His love for me was practically tangible in that state, and almost overwhelming to feel, pressing me from all sides. Such uncertainty and yet such determination in his voice and in his touch. I was his and yet he still felt as if I was not. His love was deep and true, possessive and protective, but it was also so desperate.

I tried to relieve that uncertainty, I tried too show him just how deeply I belonged to him, that our souls were connected in some unexplainable way. We'd made passionate, exploratory love, silently into the night, with our supper forgotten on the table, but I still didn't think he understood...

My reflective thoughts began to scatter as my orgasm pushed to take over, and the completion my husband could wring from my body shook through my soul. We lay still and silent as our panting breath returned to normal.

"Now, it is breakfast time." His voice was firm.

"Or we will waste away to nothing." I joked and Erik tensed minutely before trying to laugh.

"It's quite possible..." he was doing his best to hide his true thoughts and I inwardly sighed. It hurt that he wouldn't share with me, but did I honestly think that marriage would miraculously change him? I had childishly hoped that once we were united in matrimony he would know that I could be trusted even with his darkest thoughts, but he still hid from me, no matter that there was no mask upon his face.

I rose and did my part to help with preparations and within a few minutes we were sitting at our table enjoying our breakfast. Erik had helped by setting the table but he'd put us across from one another, instead of side by side as I'd done last night. I tried not to frown, telling myself that it was the proper way to sit, but I was forming arguments in my head that I knew him and I were going to discuss shortly.

"Today I would like to see the outside," I declared after we'd eaten enough food.

"Of course," Erik nodded, "Forgive me for not showing you yesterday."

"I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday," I fluttered my lashes at my husband, "Do not apologize for any part of it." He glanced at me over his coffee cup and I could tell he knew exactly what I was talking about. "I also want to look at all that music you wrote." I changed the subject. "The binder is stuffed, Erik. How on earth, did you write it all in one night?"

"I was bored." He shrugged casually, though his piercing eyes were weighing every one of my words.

"I was anxious," I sighed, remembering the night before our wedding. "I couldn't sleep, I just sat up practically all night, waiting for morning so I could finally marry you." I played with my wedding bands. "And now, here we are..."

"Married." Erik reached for my hand and played with my wedding bands himself. Our gazes met, and he looked a little bit lost. "I love you, Christine."

I leaned over the table to kiss his fingertips. He was primed, it was time to talk. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything." Erik vowed, as he I knew he would, holding my hand in both of his.

"I want you to forget the word evil." I held up my free hand to stem his interruption. "I know you say you are evil, but I say, you are good." He made a noise but I had my words ready and I would use them. "It all depends on your perspective. I do believe there is darkness, and less than perfect behavior, in everyone. Even in myself, your so-called angel. But there is no heavenly light without the dark." I bent my lips to his hands where they gripped mine. "Your gifts are not evil, my love. They are part of your amazing, very natural talents, a part of you. I want you to know, that I don't believe you are evil at all, or even know how to be evil. You are my husband, my friend, my teacher, my knight..." I touched his face. "You have been so good to me, so incredibly wonderful, how you could see yourself as so unworthy...it hurts me, Erik."

Erik looked slightly pained but he shook his head. "I cannot change the way I feel..."

"I know that I can't snap my fingers and change you." I interrupted, feeling at an impasse, but I was determined to make him see how worthy he was. "Can I safely say that all the most terrible things you've done, were ordered of you?"

His stormy eyes searched mine. "In a manner of speaking. Yes."

"Then how can you feel responsible for any of it? Let it go, Erik. When given the chance you've proved time and again to me that you are thoughtful, caring, giving, generous and loving. We begin our new life together. I have married you because I love you. I want you to be happy."

His grip on my hands tightened. "I told you I am happy, Christine. Have I given the impression that I am not?" He looked worried now and I bit my tongue.

"No, darling, no. I see your happiness, and...I felt it too." Erik stiffened and his brow came down. "I just don't want you to hate yourself. I don't want you thinking that your beautiful voice, that I love so much, is at all evil."

"I unknowingly took over your conscious mind." He spoke through gritted teeth. "I could have done irresponsible, irreversible damage..."

"You never would," I gripped his hands and slid closer, over the table. "I do not believe you ever could. You love me too much, Erik. More than you love anything in this world. You love me so much, that it pains you to be away from me. You love me so much, that all you want is for me to be healthy and happy. You think nothing for your own comfort, you seek to only please me at every turn. You want for nothing but my love and acceptance, you would starve and bleed and die if it meant I was safe and yours..."

"Stop." He was choked and I wondered if I'd gone too far. "How...how can you..."

"You didn't hypnotize me." I tried to pick what to say very carefully. "I felt as if I was within your mind. I could feel your thoughts, and your feelings were...magnified. It was otherworldly. It was an exquisite joining of our souls, Erik. It was not evil in the slightest. It was amazing." I was trembling just thinking of it and those piercing eyes of his calculated.

"The joining of our souls..." he was slightly awed and I pushed my advantage.

"You are not evil, my soul mate, you are just a man, as I am just a woman. You are a man with many special skills. A man of music and intelligence far surpassing anyone I've ever met, and now, you are also my man." I finished softly, gazing at him in adoration.

"I am your man," he concluded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I know." My own smile was impossible to suppress.

"You are still an angel though." He affirmed, with a small frown, and I shrugged.

"It all depends on your perspective." He tugged me around the table and into his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

"For you, my angel, I will shut away my past. It is forgotten as of this moment. For you, I will endeavor, in the rest of my lifetime, to be worthy of your radiance. For you, I would starve and bleed and die..." I covered his mouth.

"How about if we just love each other, however we feel is right?"

"We must be careful, pet." He nuzzled into me. "I don't know the power of my own voice..."

"Then let's go discover together." I started pulling him off his chair. "I want to sing with you."


	65. Control

**Christine**

I sat next to Erik as he played the music he'd written for me. Some were heartbreaking songs, full of yearning and loneliness, and they made tears sting my eyes just thinking of him missing me so much in one short night. Some were light and funny, one in particular, weaving a story of a scary phantom who lured an innocent girl into loving him, which made me pinch him. The last song he played, made me sit up straight and swallow nervously. It was so darkly passionate that I blushed just reading the words on the page, as his turbulent music filled my ears and made me want to slide the robe from his body yet again.

I took a steadying breath. "If this song was ever sung for an audience I think people would be scandalized."

His fingers did not stop playing and I turned the page for him even though I was not sure if he needed me to.

"People want scandal," he replied cryptically. "If, and this is a very big if, this song was ever performed for an audience, I would only allow you to sing it with me."

My heart fluttered and I tried not to seem too excited by the prospect. Erik would perform with me?

"I would not want to sing such a passionate piece with anyone but my husband." I let my hand stray to his leg and brushed aside his robe so I could touch his naked thigh.

"I thought you wanted to sing?" He teased me gently and I released him reluctantly.

"I do," I sighed as I stood and began humming some scales. He led me through my warm up, ever the same as always and when we finished he asked which song I'd like to sing. I picked the aria from Hannibal, since I should stay focused on my job, and Erik nodded in agreement and played the intro for me, leading me through the song as if with a string tied to my vocal chords. The libretto at the end, channeled heights previously unreachable and when he stopped playing, I gasped in awe, feeling as if I'd just been released by his musical bonds.

"Your improvement in such a short time is astounding. The notes were beyond your reach three short months ago." He looked so proud of me, but I knew it was all because of him. None of my success in singing was possible without him. He was the music flowing through me.

"Thank you, Maestro." I teased with a smile and his gaze warmed.

"What now, pet?"

"A duet." I was determined to see if we could perform musical magic together. Perhaps I would even be able to make him feel my thoughts.

"Very well..." he still seemed reluctant to sing and as he began to play, I leaned down to kiss his cheek. He was playing the duet from the end of Faust and as my voice joined his in the love song, I felt a holy sensation tremble through my body. Erik quickly stopped and turned to me.

"Are you alright?" His face betrayed his fear and I shook my head slowly and crossed my arms.

"No, I am not." I frowned at him. I could see the thoughts being processed in his head. I was not hypnotized, but I was not alright, so what was wrong with me? He did not speak and I sighed dramatically. "You keep thinking you will hypnotize me, but don't you have to try to do that? Don't you have to, how did you describe it, persuade your victim?"

"Apparently with you, all I have to do is sing!" He was angry, but so was I. He wasn't listening to me, he was still believing that what he'd done to me was bad in some way, that he'd forced me to stay in our erotic embrace? I could feel my annoyance and anger building to levels that would have us screeching at each other when this week had been set aside for love. I took a few calming breaths and swallowed all my snappy remarks down. I would have him believing me.

"Erik," I slid next to him on the bench and he looked a little surprised. "Why did you stop playing?"

"What?"

"Why did you stop?"

"Because...you trembled." He looked so innocent and hesitant that I couldn't help brushing my hand down his rough cheek.

"I tremble because the power of our voices joined together is a mystical thing."

Erik covered his face briefly and then pulled his hair back a few times, trying to force it into place. "I...I don't...I can't...what if..."

I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eye. "We've sung together before?"

His tormented grey eyes searched my face. "But...it was different then."

"Different how?"

"It was different." He was being childishly stubborn and I was counting to ten in my head.

"Please explain how it could possibly be different now." I patiently waited for him to explain but he pushed my hands from his face, stood, and began pacing between the bench and the fire. I sighed quietly, watching the volatile emotions batter my sweet husband. Part of me knew I should have left everything well enough alone until our week was done. Now our special time alone was hindered with these obstacles. His face twitched and I could almost see his lips moving as he argued with himself, pacing quickly, his robe fluttering between his long legs.

Part of me, though, was glad we were settling this now. We had the time, we were alone, nothing would interrupt until we had reached all our conclusions and discovered everything there was to discover about this unreal magic between us.

**Erik**

I was going to wear a mark into the brand new floor but I could not sit still. I felt like ants were crawling all over me.

How could she ask how it was different? She should know. She was there when I possessed her! Our deep love for one another had made us one, marriage in the eyes of the Lord had further joined us and now I worried that she would always fall under my spell because she would simply never fight it. I didn't even know I could hold someone without speaking their name first, or at least trying to gain their mind. Christine just offers her mind up on a silver platter for me and then wonders why I'm so reluctant to sing with her?

I grunted as I turned and my sweet Christine was standing from the bench.

"Where are you going?" I sounded like an asshole but I was strung entirely too tight imagining that she would never be safe with me.

She smiled calmly. "It doesn't look like we are going to sing, so I thought we could go back to bed."

My brow furrowed at her. How does she always know just what to say to win her way with me? She wanted to sing, that's all, and here I am, pacing like a madman, arguing with myself, looking like a fool, but she still wants me, still wants to take me back to bed. I dragged my hands through my hair one last, painful time.

"We can try it again." I offered, knowing it was a bad idea, but if we didn't learn what we were capable of, she may one day be hurt by our lack of knowledge.

"Really? You don't mind?" She was grinning as I sat back down.

"I mind, but this is something we must do." She put her hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed.

"I agree."

I took a few centering breaths and then started the duet again. The first notes reverberated through the room ominously, as if they never should have been played, but within a few bars I felt the music within me. What was it about the flow of music that allows you to lose your mind? Perhaps it wasn't so much my voice that affected Christine, but how in tune she was with all things musical?

My cue was coming and Christine's fingers were tightening on my shoulder. My brain began to spew reasons for that infinitesimal tightening, she was scared, she was nervous, she was apprehensive. Perhaps it was anticipation of something divine. I closed my mind to all thoughts and opened it only to the music.

My voice joined the organ's song and the hesitant sound of it had me sitting up straighter and playing with more passion. That was not how to sing. Her voice lifted with mine, singing of being safe because I am with her, and I knew it was only the words of an opera, but they resonated as I took my turn and sang to her of my love. Our voices complimented and clashed with intensity, bouncing back to us off the windows and filling our home with the sound of our music. I closed my eyes in reverence.

It was an exquisite sound, a perfect mesh of two separate voices, the male and female. Two separate entities blending into one through song. You could hear how perfect our voices melted together, her pure soprano and my throaty tenor, complementing in ways that defied reason. It was a stirring of our souls through our voices and as the duet ended, Christine rested her head on mine, putting her arms around my neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, as I took hold of her hands. I told myself not to ask if she was alright. It would make her angry and I did not want her angry with me after such a moving experience.

I swallowed, "You have learned so much."

"My teacher is wonderful." I could hear the smile on her face and we sat silently, basking in the afterglow of our musical perfection. "May I ask you how it felt for you?"

"It felt...perfect." I rubbed my thumbs back and forth on her palms, unable to come up with a better description. "May I ask you how it felt?"

"Singing with Piangi will always seem a disappointment now," she sighed and a smile was tugging my lips.

"Don't let him hear you say that," I joked as I turned slightly to tug her down into my lap. Her eyes twinkled merrily as her arms coiled around my neck.

"He's a talented singer, but no one compares to you." Her fingers combed through my hair and I couldn't help leaning in to kiss her. I was glad that she was able to resist the pull of my voice this time. Or perhaps it only hypnotized her if I was singing my own musical creations, or perhaps I had to be the only one singing so she did not have to concentrate on her own notes, or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I had been making love to her. That could easily draw down her natural defenses and allow for my voice to penetrate her mind.

I just needed to tread carefully. I also needed to keep her unaware that I was treading carefully. She would not like it if she knew I was holding back. Then again, just now I did not hold back at all. I'd let the music carry me through and I'd sang with all my heart.

Perhaps our experiences were the meshing of our souls. Perhaps Christine was right, and there was nothing evil about my voice or the intimate sharing of my deepest emotions for her. I felt like this duet had brought on more questions then what it answered.

Her lips were tenderly exploring my jaw and my hand strayed to fondle her breast.

"Shall we try another song?" I felt slightly more confident that yesterday had been an errant occurrence. Perhaps it was as simple as she let her guard down too much and I did not hold back at all and that peculiar joining was the outcome. I had not been aware of it, as I usually am when I hypnotize someone, and it could be just another way that I could love her. Perhaps with everything else that was unique and special with our love, we also could experience the others thoughts if the mood was right.

I pulled back and studied her rosy lips and light filled eyes. "Would you be willing to try an experiment?" As soon as I said the words, I wished I could pull them back. Wasn't it better not to know? Wasn't it better to think my controlling of her mind was an errant occurrence? That the sound of my voice had no part in her draw to me?

"Of course," she beamed, so happy that I was trusting myself enough to allow for an experiment.

"I need to see if just singing to you, affects you the same way."

Her face scrunched adorably, "You've sung to me before and it never happened?"

I did not think that was altogether true. She'd come to me many times as I played and sang, as if she was under the control of my music.

"It is different, my love." I traced the contours of her face, ready to explain my earlier frustrations. "You are my wife now. We are joined in so many ways that I fear your ability to withstand my power may weaken, as our love flourishes."

"So, you want me to resist you?" her eyebrow arched in question.

"That would make the experiment better."

"I never want to resist you..." her lashes fluttered as our lips met in a kiss, ripe with promise, and I opened my mouth to deepen our contact. If I was being honest with myself, I never wanted her to resist me either, but this experiment would help me better understand how powerful I was. I'd somehow damaged Anya's mind, frightened Molly and Berou, and now accidentally taken over Christine's mind, all with my music. Better to discover now just how complex my hypnotic abilities were.

I broke our kiss, knowing this trial would already be difficult enough without the memory of a heated embrace so close to the time of our resistance. I helped her off my lap and we determined what we would attempt. I would sit on the bench and sing, to limit my movement, and she would stand a good distance away. Then we could gauge many variables, any distance closed between us and all her reactions as well as my own.

"I'm ready." Her face looked determined and I felt love for her swell in my chest. She always gave me so much of herself, no wonder it was impossible for her to resist me. She didn't know how to love only a little. When she loved, it was with her entire heart, her entire being. I looked down at my hands gripping my knees.

That is how I had to sing to her. With my entire being.

Softly, I began to sing, my eyes closed to center my thoughts around her. I reached out with my song, weaving the words to entice her as much as possible. I was singing my song of passion, which did not seem fair to me, but I was giving everything to this experiment. Her and I were already far beyond the point of no return, no matter what this exposed, it would not change that we were married and promised to each other, but it would give me boundaries to stand by. If I wasn't truly wishing to test her, I would have sung something more innocuous, but this was a test. If she could resist the temptation of this song then I would not worry so much about what had happened yesterday. I would conclude that it was only while making love that her mind was easily penetrated.

I sang passionately to her of our burning love, succumbing to the temptation, tasting the fire of what we shared, the pleasure and the completion. Her eyes glowed at me and every so often she would take a step forward and then halt, but she kept her distance, and her mind.

When I finished I could hear her breathing heavily and her lips were trembling around gritted teeth. I also noticed my hands were aching from gripping my knees so tight. We stared at each other in the deafening silence and then Christine swallowed.

"Is the experiment done?" Her voice was breathy and I nodded, unable to speak. If she could resist me singing that song then her mind was safe. I stood slowly and approached her, while her tawny eyes burned with the heat of her passionate soul. She may have resisted me, but I violently no longer wanted her to. I wanted to fall on her like a furious storm of desire. I could feel it burning through me, as if I was channeling too much passion for one person alone. Perhaps I was?

I stood before her, our eyes locked in longing, and she swooned slightly, leaning on me for support. Our bodies touched and I felt a rush of heat as her hands daintily caressed my sides. "It wasn't enjoyable, my love, but I did it, to prove to you I could."

I stroked her back and felt the desire building in me unbearably. I wanted to scoop her up and take her straight to bed, but could not form the words. My mind was consumed with dark desire, swirling for her alone. I wondered briefly if I had no power to resist her myself, while I ached painfully to marry our bodies without further delay.

"We may have to try another experiment," she whispered. "If you sing and allow me to naturally succumb to that song..." she shuddered against me and my eyes fluttered shut at the feel of her body rippling next to mine. "To feel such passion...together..." she sighed quietly, almost wistfully and that was it for me. I could make that wish come true.

I peeled the robe down her shoulders roughly. She made a startled noise and I pulled her closer with one arm as the other tore the robe from her body.

"I need you," was all I managed to gasp before I covered her open lips with mine, took her down to the floor of our music room, and fulfilled all the promises of my darkly passionate song.

**Meg**

I let myself into Maman's room and found her sitting at her powder table putting on make-up.

"What are you doing?" I was a little stunned because it was bedtime and without Christine around I was stuck hanging out with my mother, but she turned quickly, tossing the jar of rouge onto the table behind her.

"What are you doing?" she repeated my question and frowned at me.

I crossed my arms. "I was coming to say goodnight and ask you to help braid my hair since Christine is gone and none of the other dancers like me anymore." I waited for her to explain why she was putting on make-up at eight thirty in the evening. I should have known she would not offer any information.

"Well, come here then." She gestured me forward and reached for the comb. I knelt in front of her and she started brushing out my hair but my insides were boiling with curiosity.

"Maman, are you going out?" it had to be the only explanation.

"Yes." Silence descended and I had to stifle a giggle. She was so close-lipped about some things and then so oppiniated about others. I decided to talk about me since she didn't want to tell me what she was up to.

"Count Inninbalm asked me to dinner again."

"Splendid."

"So you approve of him now?" I knew I sounded like a bratty child.

She tsked at me and the comb yanked through my hair a little harder. "I never truly disapproved of him, I just want better for you."

"Better than a Count?"

"Better than being your husband's handservant! Do you even think of all you will have to do for him?" She huffed noisily and began muttering. "I swear, you never think things through, you never look beyond your nose..."

"I do to!" I turned around and glared at her. "I know he needs help, that goes without saying, but doesn't he deserve happiness too?"

"Would it honestly make you happy to carry him around, bathe him and help him go to the toilet?" She was purposely pointing out the worst parts.

"I really like him." I implored for her to understand. She sighed and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Ma fleur, I only want what is best for you." My heart was squeezing in my chest. I loved Cameron for who he was. I loved his flirtatiousness and his charm, because I was the same way. I loved his dark, chocolate eyes and rosy, kissable lips, the handsome planes of his face and chest. I loved how gentle he was when he spoke to me and when he was with me physically. He would never strike me or even raise a hand to me. But I knew life with him would not be easy. He said his grandfather eventually was restricted to a bed and as romantic as I could spin that, it wasn't romantic at all. That would mean I would have to run the household and wrangle the children by myself and clean up his bed after certain bodily functions. I felt like crying in confusion but Maman had more to say. "I admit that even I find him quite charming and even attractive." She turned me gently to keep brushing my hair. "He has told me that he _needs_ a wife. That is no fairytale, my child. Clotilda grows old and he does not want to be left alone when she passes."

"I know." I sulked without thinking.

"Did he share this with you as well?" She was shocked. "I wasn't aware that you and he spoke at all of such intimate details." I rolled my eyes at how blind Maman could be. "Perhaps he is thinking you would make a good wife and he wants to test the waters?"

You have no idea...

"Maybe," I shrugged. She put down the comb and started folding my hair into a long braid.

"If he asked you, what would you say?" My heart rate doubled. I could tell her right now. I could stand up and say, 'I love him, Maman and he has already asked me and I have said yes,' but I was a coward. Plus, I didn't mind that no one knew yet. Once they did, I would have to stop dancing and I suddenly didn't want to give up my first love so quickly.

"I don't know." I squirmed thinking of how Cameron's hands already knew how to touch me and please me. I needed to say something to Maman but all I could think of was being in bed with Cameron, and I could feel the blood filling my cheeks. "I like him but he seems like a big flirt," I swallowed. "He teases all the girls..." I was so cowardly. I couldn't even tell my mother that I already carried his ring around between my breasts. The stones adorning it had already pressed their permanent mark into my heart. She tied off my braid and pulled me up.

"Meghan, my darling child. You must make your decision. If he asks you, you must be prepared with an intelligent answer, and not gape at him or say something stupid. You would make a beautiful Countess." She was smiling at me with such hope in her eyes that I realized why her mind had been almost changed in regards to Cameron. He could improve my station and take me away from the stage, which was always the biggest battle between Maman and I.

"Do you think Cameron loves me?" I was beginning to wonder if Maman knew more than she was letting on.

"He certainly cares for you. Love is not the most important thing in the world, sometimes stability is far more important and he will certainly provide you with that. Besides, what does love matter in marriages of convenience? Cameron needs a strong young woman to care for him. He is hardly worried about love in these circumstances. He can give you anything you desire, ma petite. Think about it."

"Maybe I should ask him if he loves me?"

"What? Never do that!" She frowned darkly. "It gives him the chance to lie to your face and fill your head with nonsense. Perhaps you could be the bold one and ask his intentions, but that is all. Ask him soon, before he finds some other girl who interests him." I nodded that I would, and then hugged her and made to leave, but I couldn't resist trying one last time.

"So, where are you going, Maman?"

"Oh, just out for dinner." It was pretty late for dinner out which meant she was going to someone's home. A faint blush rose in her cheeks. "It would be rude to say no when the patrons ask for my company." I wondered who was inviting her out so late at night, but I knew she would never tell so I kept it to myself and left.

So, Maman had a paramour? Maybe that was why she was so much happier lately. I giggled to myself as I crawled into bed and took out Cameron's ring. Was Maman right? Would he really so easily find any other girl to make him happy? Would he tell her he loved her and needed her and didn't want to live life without her, just like he told me? I closed my eyes and remembered the way his eyes burned at me when I was in his bed and dancing around his room for him. I remembered him saying, 'Only you rouse my blood.'

He wouldn't replace me. He loved me. I was sure of it.

**Erik**

I played with some of Christine's curls as we languished in bed. Our week had passed entirely too quickly but it probably only felt that way to us because the majority of our time was spent in one place. This bed. The whole week was one heavenly orgy of sex and music. We'd attempted a few more musical experiments, trying to gauge my power in a few different ways, but it didn't seem to matter how I played and sang, they often ended with Christine in my arms. She said, she proved she could resist me once and now intended to never do it again and once she was in my arms I made sure to always stop singing. The experiments had provided some valuable information about my own powers of persuasion, and I was beginning to believe in Christine's point of view. She could resist the pull if she desired to, Nadir had before mentioned the ease of resisting if you wanted to, my voice and music may have some persuasive magic intertwined within, they could make my audience sympathize or feel, but it was not evil.

Christine stretched against me and propped her chin on my chest. "Do I have to go to rehearsal tomorrow?" She whined playfully.

I smiled at her, "Yes, pet. I'm sorry."

"Me too..." she sighed heartily. "Well, it will be nice to see Meg."

"We still have one night left. How shall we spend it?" I purred softly, knowing full well how I wished to spend the entire evening.

Her lashes lowered and I could just see the smile curling her lips. "I can think of a few different ways..."

One of the ways, was seducing me. "My own little experiment." She grinned, flashing her bright teeth and brighter soul, shining from her eyes. "Let us see if you are able to resist me?" She disappeared behind the dressing screen with gentle laughter, and after a few minutes, came out in a lacy assembly of swatches of fabric that barely covered her. She shook out her hair, messing it roughly about with her fingers, and then fixed those sunny eyes on me.

"Every time you touch me..." She began to sing and I sat up in bed. She was singing to me, about me and for me, as she touched her body and let her eyes flutter closed as passion overcame her senses. She was a siren, a vixen, a minx, my minx. My loins tightened painfully and my hands fisted in the sheets as she laid across the bed and arched her back, singing in her angelic voice.

"This feeling overwhelms my soul. The likes of which I've never known..." My teeth were tightly clamped as my breath rasped from my nostrils. I wasn't going to make it. I was weaker than her when it came to resisting our love. She should know this. I was ill equipped to deal with such aching desire. She was my first, my only, my everything. She was so close, writhing upon our bed at my feet.

Trembling took over my limbs and my first thought, 'Seizure', dampened my arousal considerably. Christine was unaware, and continued to sing with growing intensity, running her hands down her body.

"So touch me again. Let me feel your mind. I want to have you all inside..." I let my eyes close to properly enjoy the sweet sound of her voice, and to blind myself to her arousing, scantily clad form. Her perfect instrument, trained precisely by me, was a thing of exquisite purity. It rang through me with holy perfection and I could feel her love, her desire, her happiness in her voice. A smile pulled on my lips and I breathed deeply, smelling the scent of roses and our love all around us. I made her that happy?

I felt as if invisible bonds were there between us, channeling the power of love from her to me. I floated in the perfection of her voice. It painted such a perfect picture of our life together. Her voice held no uncertainty as she sang, and I could feel my worries and cares, flying away from me. I was in pure bliss, from head to toe. She truly had the voice of an angel. And when my angel sang of touches and kisses and rolling in bed together, I felt like the most blessed creature on earth. The only thing that would make this moment better is if she would touch me, even just on my foot...

I gasped and jerked into awareness.

Christine was kneeling in front of me with one hand on my bare foot poking out of the sheets. She had a look of wonder on her face that slowly turned to blazing triumph.

I stared in disbelief at my songbird and knew without a doubt what she had done to me. She gasped a laugh and then launched herself into my arms to seal our hearts and souls together with an ecstatic kiss.

**Christine**

When Erik left our bed, with a kiss to my brow, I did not move. I was exhausted. A smile slowly stretched across my face for him, but I heard a door and glanced around to find myself alone. I thought of going to find him, but quickly realized I was so bone tired that I desperately needed the sleep. Our week alone together had been a magical, musical, sexual dream world. I think we spent more time making love and singing than sleeping. It was entirely too easy to believe that no one existed or mattered except the two of us, but tomorrow was back to reality and I needed sleep if I was going to face that reality brightly. I wasn't sure where Erik had gone off to, but I sprawled out in our bed, burying my face in the pillow and didn't particularly care. He would return to me soon and for now I had the whole bed to myself.

The house was so quiet that I swear I could hear the water of the stream rippling by and I was falling fast asleep when the silent house was suddenly no longer silent. My ears perked to hear him slowly linking the notes of the organ into a seductive curl of music. I rose like an automaton, taking two steps from the bed and then shivering at the cold, shaking my head and returning to the warmth.

He was supposed to be sleeping with me, too exhausted to move after what we just did. Not running off to jot down his latest inspirations.

Desire to join him pushed me half way up, but I yawned hugely and pulled the pillow over my head. I had to be at rehearsal tomorrow.

I could resist the lure of his music, the enticing sound of his creations, but it wasn't easy. My teeth were beginning to grind together as he wove intricate exquisite melodies, and my body was squirming in our marital bed by the time he stopped. I was panting into the silence and I yanked the pillow off my head for fresh air. I was trembling all over and I chanted silently, and nicely, at my creative husband to come back to bed now.

He started playing again and I moaned and clutched the pillow to my chest. Is this how it would always be? Would I never be able to shut his music from my ears? Did I even want to do such a thing? I told him that I never would, but I needed to sleep tonight...

Music swelled romantically and I felt myself rise from bed and walk to the door. When I entered the hall, the music surrounded me even more thoroughly and I whimpered and clutched the pillow tighter. He was powerful, but nothing would ever convince me it was evil. It felt too good.

As I neared the conservatory I began to get angry. I needed to sleep. Did we not come together enough times over this week? Could we just sleep tonight? For my sake? I wanted to look my best tomorrow when I entered the theater for the first time as Madame Karan.

I entered through the closed door and he did not notice me, as was the case most times when he played. He would remain unaware until I got close or touched him. I hugged the pillow to my naked chest and shivered as the music crescendoed through me. The large windows were dark with night and the stream glimmered prettily in the moonlight. My head fell back as his music soared and tingling tremors raced through my limbs as I imagined him taking me, with my cheek pressed against the cold glass so I could watch the moonlight on the stream...

"STOP!" I yelled to be heard over the music and Erik turned quickly. "What's the matter with you?" I demanded angrily, thinking he'd put that image straight into my head with his music.

"I beg your pardon?" he replied smoothly which only made me more agitated. Perhaps I put the picture in my head all on my own?

"I'm trying to sleep and you decide to plunk away on the piano?"

"I thought you were asleep, and I do not plunk, and this is not a piano." He was really not helping to calm me down.

"You thought I was sleeping and decided to wake me?" Tonight was our last night, why was I so annoyed with him? I should be jumping into his arms and feeling the music in our joined souls, enjoying our last night without responsibility. If I didn't have to attend rehearsal tomorrow and look spectacular I might have been running into his arms and helping him feel more than his music, but that was not the point.

"I closed all the doors..."

"As if that can stop your music from filling my head."

"You are angry with me..." he approached me with an amused quirk to his lips and I realized he was naked. My pillow was the only thing covering me and I squeezed it tightly, as I told myself to not give in.

"Yes, Erik. I am trying to sleep so I can look well rested and be ready to rehearse tomorrow."

He touched my cheek and the love on his face was a little overwhelming. "I was inspired by what you did."

I blushed as I recalled the song and dance I'd performed for him in my dainty attire, but the outcome to that performance had been a mystical thing. I somehow had felt his yearning to be touched by me and his stunned face when I'd touched his foot...

I felt my anger leaking away. "Come lay with me." I took his hand and backed towards the door, but he pulled away.

"I have to write it while it's fresh in my mind," he spoke over his shoulder as he walked back to the organ. "Otherwise I might lose the music. You could help me?"

"No," I stubbornly stayed where I was.

"No?" He looked stunned again and then a sly smile curved his lips. "I could...change your mind..." his fingers danced over the keys and I took two steps towards him and frowned. "Come to me," he sang in a low purr, letting music flow from his beautiful hands. "Come to me, Angel of music..."

I honestly wanted to. I yearned to be his angel of music once more.

Instead I tossed my pillow at his head. It knocked him forward slightly and the organ jarred a discordant sound. The utter shock on his face was so priceless that a laugh spilled from my mouth, and I turned and ran from the room. He caught me momentarily, I'd barely made it past the stairs and he threw me over his shoulder, one long hand braced on my backside.

"Naughty wife of mine," he growled playfully and turned his head to nip my flesh lightly. I yelped and then sighed as I let my gaze travel over his fine rear end. I slid my hands down.

"You were trying to wake me up." I surmised and he caressed the backs of my legs.

"No pet, you need to sleep, but now that you are here, I want you." He sat me right on the organ keys and sound suddenly filled the air around us. Our eyes met as my hands settled on his chest.

"You want me?" I traced one finger down and down.

"To help me with my music, of course." His hands curled into my hair and our lips met gently but firmly. We kissed until the sound from the pipes had disappeared and as we pulled apart, his eyes stayed closed in reverence. "Christine, you make my soul sing..." he kissed me again and I forgot all about rehearsal tomorrow. I twined my fingers in his hair, wondering why I had fought against the most amazing feeling in the world.

**Erik**

I boldly kissed my wife and touched her soft skin as she sat on my organ. She was entirely correct about my intentions and though I felt slightly guilty for summoning her to my side with music, the feeling did not last long. I caressed her back and helped her legs to wind around me as I pressed us closer together. She was a drug to me, intoxicating me to the point of mindlessness. To live so long thinking I would never know this passion, never know this complete acceptance, never know the warm embrace of a woman's body. I could safely say that I would never have my fill of her.

I rubbed my arousal against her warm, wet core and she moaned for me. My lips twitched where they were nibbling her neck and I couldn't help teasing her.

"Perhaps we should stop," I whispered in her ear. "It's quite late and you need your sleep..."

"I can sleep later," she panted breathlessly, pulling me close.

"But my music...if I don't write it down..." I attempted to fool her and she grabbed a handful of hair and growled, nose to nose.

"Your music can wait, your wife cannot."

I ravenously met her mouth as satisfaction raced through me already. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, chanted through my head as I lifted her slightly and joined our bodies. She was wrapped around me as I made love to her on my brand new organ. Every so often, new notes would fill the air as we became lost in loving each other. Her hand braced against the keys, my thigh depressed a few notes and her round bottom shifted to send different choruses of sound into the air. When her backside pinned my hand against the keys I realized it might be quite uncomfortable for her, no matter that she clutched at me greedily and devoured my mouth. I picked her up and sat on the bench not wanting to stop, but our position was becoming complicated. Christine solved it by arching back and spreading her arms along the keys. The organ hummed with sound, my wife hummed with passion and I gripped the bench to maintain my composure.

This is exactly what I imagined when I called to her with my music. This was exactly what I wanted. My hands roved over her waist, ribs and breasts, helping her ride me and savoring her at the same time, while she continued to make the most incredible music within me. There were songs filling me, crowding my thoughts, drowning me, as the organ pulsed harmonically beneath her.

Mad, passionate music darkened every corner of my mind and I felt her skin beneath my teeth. Her throat convulsed next to my face as she squirmed and bucked.

"Erik..." she was close and I delved into her ear with my tongue, coaxing her to completion. Her orgasm shook her body and the organ shook with sound as her hands spasmed on the keys one last time.

I was not finished though, and I lifted her limp body and laid her gently on the pillow at my feet. Her eyes were closed in exhaustion and as I pressed inside her once more they shot open.

"Erik!" She gasped, and I shushed her at her mouth before claiming it. I was gentle now, feeling her love so acutely that I wanted to cry.

"I love you," I whispered over and over, kissing her eyes, nose, cheeks and hair. I spilled myself into her, moaning softly for her, as I gathered her tightly in my embrace.

"I love you." She sighed in my ear, the happy breath of her voice caused a final shiver of pleasure through me. I carried her to bed and curled our naked bodies together, both of us, utterly spent, and utterly one.

**Christine**

I stared down at my hands, adorned in rings, and sighed. I did not want to be at rehearsal today. I wanted to be back in my cozy home with my wonderful husband, but he said it was time to return to our mutual work. He needed time to finish the house and I still did love being the lead at the opera. We would still be together every night and I tried to content myself with that thought.

Perhaps we could cut down rehearsal times. We honestly did not need to go through it every day. We knew it by heart by now.

"Christine!" Meg squealed and ran across the stage and down into the seats. I beamed at her and stood to clasp her tightly. "I missed you so much!"

"Will you be hurt if I say I did not think of you once?" Meg laughed in my ear and squeezed me tightly.

"I know what you were doing, naughty girl."

I giggled a little and then shushed Meghan. She really was too boisterous about such private things. "It's not naughty if it's with my husband," I whispered back and looked around. Carlotta was coming towards me and Meg made a gagging face.

"I'll talk to you later, I'm not sticking around for La Diva." Meg trotted away and Carlotta fixed her nasty gaze on me.

"Madame Karan?" She made it sound like a question and I smiled politely.

"Yes dear Carlotta?" I felt slightly smug towards the cruel woman as I sat back down. I had a spectacular husband and a blossoming career and she was just mean and bitter. No matter my inner thoughts, I only welcomed conversation with my smile. It would not be good to injure my relationship with my understudy. Plus, now that I had the upper hand it was easier to take her nastiness.

"I wanted you to know that you were in such a hurry for your wedding, that the door to your room was left open." Her smile looked entirely fake and mine was feeling the same.

"Was it?" Before I could say more she continued.

"I shut it for you and made sure to lock it, of course. You never can be too careful." She glanced regally towards the stage and saw Reyer nearing his post. "Rehearsal will begin soon, but I am interested to know how you obtained such a lovely full length mirror? It is marrrrvelous. I simply must ask Comte Inninbalm for one in my own dressing room. Why it has been overlooked for so long, heaven only knows?"

Reyer rapped on his stand and Carlotta sneared a mock smile in my direction and flounced towards the stage. I let out my breath and rose to follow. Good thing she didn't find the broken tile on the floor or the mechanism to open it, or her questions might have been much more difficult to handle.


	66. Crumbled

_**Author's note: HELLO EVERYONE! Did you miss me? oh poo you missed Erik...I know it's true...**_

_**I want to warn of VERY ADULT SITUATIONS! **__**Sorry for the long wait for this installment. Hope you ENJOY!**_

**Erik**

I felt like a new man as I walked the halls of my opera. My head was held high. I was confident in myself. It was a heady sensation to feel so far above other men, and I knew it was due to my wife. I was a new man, because I was now her husband.

Christine had broken down the last of my insecurity with her passion for me and I was the luckiest man alive, to have a beautiful, sensual, loving wife as I did. Christine was the center of my universe and I was only too happy to rotate around her. She had changed me and made me a better person, I could feel it inside me.

While the center of my universe was in rehearsal, I was marching down the hall to have a quick meeting with Cameron before heading to the commissioned site. I came to the office and voices were raised within.

"You said you would announce it last week." Mme Giry was angry.

"I would like to ensure that she will say yes first." Cameron was equally angry.

"Of course she will. I told her you were a good choice."

"Forgive me Madame, but your daughter is not the most simple minded person and I highly doubt she will accede because you..."

"I want it announced today, before tonight's performance. Stop stalling."

"I know you are eager to tear your daughter from the stage..."

"You know nothing, Monsieur."

"But I do not want to rush her or embarrass her."

"I won't let you back out of our agreement..."

"I have no desire to back out of..."

"Then quit stalling and do it!"

"Stop badgering me! I will ask her when the time is right. Until then, you will have to exercise some patience!"

In the silence I imagined they were glaring at one another. Antoinette could glare with the best of them and as some shuffling noises could be heard, I made the decision to let her see me instead of hiding. I did enjoy tormenting the infuriating woman. The door opened as I leaned beside it, but Antoinette had a parting remark for Cameron.

"She already grows bored with you. I would make your move." She turned to make her dramatic exit and froze at sight of me.

"Bonjour, Madame." I couldn't help the sly smile from pulling on my lips. Her face flickered through a few emotions, annoyance, fear, anger and she settled on holier than thou.

"Sneaking about as _Le Phantom_ is one thing, but an owner should show more respect." Then she tossed her head and strode angrily away.

"Erik?" Cameron called from inside and I joined him in our office. "You look well." He smiled at me and I lowered myself into a chair.

"Should I not?"

"I thought you would be somewhat wasted away from a whole week at your wife's disposal." His grin was mischevous and I laughed.

"That is none of your business," though the satisfied smile on my face gave me completely away.

"Everyone knows what newlyweds spend their time doing." He cajoled easily, "I'm surprised you are both here today."

"I said one week, I meant one week. I am not giving La Vache anymore of Christine's lime light." Cameron sagged and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, that woman..."

I sat forward. "Has she been causing trouble? I told you if there was even a sniff of trouble..."

"I know, I know. No trouble really. She is just the most difficult woman to get along with. Everything in rehearsal goes sideways with her running the stage. Thomas is scared stiff of her, Reyer cannot make her listen and even Piangi just bows to her whims because it makes his life easier. As soon as you think you've made some headway, she decides something else entirely is of more importance to her. She's been hounding me about this mirror?"

"Mirror?"

"Christine's room has some grand mirror that she wants replicated in her dressing room. I have no idea what she's talking about. None of the dormitory rooms have full length dressing mirrors but she's adamant..."

"I put one in Christine's room." My voice sounded slightly hollow because my brain was preoccupied with why this was so important to Carlotta. Granted, she was a vain arrogant woman, but how did she even discover the mirror? Did she break into Christine's room while we were absent? Did someone find my tunnels?

"Would you be able to get another? I dearly want to shut her up." He laughed, unaware of my tension, and I assured him I could procure another.

"Thank the lord." He fell back against his chair. "It must be _exactly_ the same." He mocked her falsetto and then laughed as he shifted some papers on the desk. "I also wanted to suggest a musical, matinée performance. What do you think?"

"Good idea," I put my disturbed thoughts away and concentrated on this topic. "I would not perform any full length material. Perhaps only a taste to keep them coming back for more. We could showcase some of our own music. Have you transcribed any of yours?"

Cameron laughed, "I've been imagining this for years. I have loads of music ready to be played."

"We should meet with Reyer then and see what he thinks. He knows his best musicians."

"I am going to ask Meghan to marry me." The topic shift was so abrupt that I was momentarily stunned. "We will need a new dancer."

"I see," I was at a loss for what to say and Cameron grinned.

"Caught you off guard?"

"Congratulations," I offered.

"Don't congratulate me yet. I still have to ask her in front of everyone." He made a face and looked back down at his papers. Cameron didn't strike me as the sort of man who needed an elaborate public proposal and I recalled the ring I'd felt on Meghan's finger. There was a chance they'd already settled things between them, but the argument with Antoinette was making more sense to me now.

"Meghan did not particularly enjoy your last public stunt."

"I am aware of that," he grumbled in annoyance.

"Well, then I wish you good luck." He looked up and smiled crookedly.

"I will need it," he held out a piece of paper towards me. "This is a list of dancers of ours that could take her place and new girls will also have to be auditioned."

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"I am merely delegating some responsibility," he would not look up and I folded the paper and tucked it into my jacket. He obviously did not want the responsibility and neither did I. I would pass it on to Antoinette. I was not about to sit and gawk at young ladies throwing themselves around the stage to impress me. She could take care of it. She was probably thrilled that Meghan would no longer dance, she could deal with filling her spot.

We talked about other unimportant things and I announced I should leave. I had plenty of work that needed doing. I stepped into the auditorium briefly to stare at Christine for a few moments before leaving for work. I was an addict getting one last fill of my chosen narcotic before I had to face reality. Christine smiled sweetly, her golden eyes radiating light and love straight into me. She waved her dainty fingers at me from the stage and I blew her a kiss and left.

Bernard was very happy to see me. They'd been having trouble with the build and I immediately got to work trying to salvage what I could. My day was filled with shouted orders, mixing mortar, checking angles and adjusting drawings. If my presence disturbed the other men, they never showed it. Everything ran seamlessly and I stayed much later than I'd planned to. It was dark by the time I headed back to the opera. I was filthy and didn't want Christine to hold me in my dirty sweaty clothes, so I quickly made my way below to my underground apartments and showered and changed.

Feeling very much refreshed, I climbed through my tunnels to Christine's room, hoping she was there alone and not visiting with Meghan. As I passed through the last sliding door I could hear an out of place sound. I halted to listen carefully, but the sound was faint, a swishing sort of sound. I mentally shrugged and kept walking, but I'd taken only two steps when I heard a low moan echo through my tunnel.

My heart stopped as I raced up and up, hurrying to Christine. A million possibilities flew through my head and I cursed our trust in that rat Carlotta. Something was going on with her and this mirror. She'd found the tunnels and the one-way mirror. Was she attacking Christine? Choking her to death so she could have her role back. As I rounded the last corner, I could clearly see Christine through the mirror, twirling slowly in her chemise, with a dreamy look on her face. She was safe.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness coming from her room and see the shadow standing to the side of the mirror in the tunnel. A man.

His eyes were trained on my wife, his mouth slack, the buckle of his pants open, and I found the source of that swishing sound.

Seething, swirling, inky, black rage filled me to my fingertips and I welcomed it in, as the unmistakable crack of a neck breaking, echoed from the darkness around me.

His body slumped to my feet and my breath heaved in and out as I contemplated tearing him limb from limb. Two slippered feet appeared in my line of sight and my gaze rose to look through the mirror, at Christine looking directly back at me.

**Christine**

Even though I was not precisely excited to be back at rehearsal, I still enjoyed myself. Singing always made me think of my Papa being proud of me. We'd dreamed of my being a performer and I still had to shake myself every now and then when I realized I was. My happy thoughts quickly shifted to my brilliant teacher, my Maestro, who made my fame possible. Which made me think of Erik, my incredible husband. I was thoroughly obsessed and enthralled with married life. I never imagined it would be so perfect, so sensual, and so other worldly. Our love was so beautiful that I ached to just have his arms around me again, but I had to be patient and wait until tonight. Good things came to patient people.

The night's performance went well, even though I'd been gone for a week. Piangi said I was astounding and although Erik was too busy catching up with work to escort me afterwards, Cameron was at my side, to take his place. I had to correct a few people who greeted me, but I had no problem repeating my new name over and over. It even repeated itself in my head, while people were speaking to me, and the serene smile of a happily married woman never left my face.

In my room afterwards, I hummed contentedly and stared at my rings, waiting for Erik to come. I thought he would be done work by now, to take us home for the evening, but he'd sent that message with Cameron saying he would be late and to please escort me. I wondered if we would just stay below tonight instead of going home, but I didn't really care where we were, as long as we were together.

Meghan visited for a bit, but she said she had a secret rendezvous with Cameron and had to go. I tried to get more information from her but she just smiled and said things were being organized between them, whatever that meant.

I took down my hair from it's intricate performance do and shook out the curls. I was only wearing my chemise and wrapper, but I could dress quickly when Erik came or we could be intimate before leaving. I giggled to myself at my naughty thoughts and caught my image in the mirror. I stripped off the wrapper and turned to look at my reflection. I looked like a fresh, innocent, young maiden in my pale chemise, loose curls and rosy cheeks. I met my eyes and smiled, anticipating another blissful night with my husband.

The curtain was pulled aside so he would be able to see me as soon as he turned the last corner. I never liked closing the curtain so it always stayed tucked to one side, a drapery decoration more than anything else. I slid my hands down my shape, watching my movements in the mirror, and wondering how I could be more enticing to my husband. I enjoyed when he grabbed me as if he could no longer be gentle. Perhaps I could illicit that response from him with a few calculated moves? I watched my cheeks flush even more and sat to brush my hair. My heart was palpitating in my chest at the thought of Erik's touch, and I calmed my racing heart with the repetitive movements of the brush. Then I had to calm my hair with a few drops of hair tonic.

I felt very at ease and overly romantic as I twirled around my dressing room, lost in thought. I felt like the luckiest girl alive. I was married to an amazing man with incredible abilities and I was the star of the Opera Garnier.

I heard a brief noise in the tunnel and glanced towards the mirror, breathlessly waiting for it to open. I stared at myself and slowly moved towards the glass. I knew I'd heard something and I felt like Erik was right on the other side, watching me. I raised my hand to press it to the glass, staring intently, trying to feel him on the other side, and then shook my head at my silliness.

You cannot feel him, at least not without your hands, silly girl. If he were there, he would just come through. He would not just stand there and stare at you. I moved away from the mirror, but an odd shiver of apprehension tingled down my spine. I glanced at the mirror over my shoulder. In the pit of my stomach, I felt sick. I knelt quickly, not wanting to ignore such a strong feeling, and pried out the broken tile to pull the mechanism.

Nothing happened. I tried it again and still nothing!

A chill went through me and I pulled up my wrapper and slid back into it. I paced in front of the mirror, waiting impatiently now. Why was the mirror not working? Was this Carlotta's doing? Did she find the tunnels and then not mention them this morning, trying to gauge my reaction? Did she break my mirror?

I knew that if it would not work for Erik, he would just go around, but something was eating at me. I didn't feel right. I felt edgy and paranoid, sick to my stomach, that something was happening to forever alter my world. I held no control where I was. Should I leave my room and go searching for Carlotta, Meghan, Cameron, anyone, and find some answers?

I decided I needed to wait for Erik, but Erik never came.

I waited all night, at first, patiently reading and checking the time as it grew later and later. Then I began pacing, praying and staring into the mirror, too agitated to sit one second and then standing and staring at my reflection for minutes on end. Within hours I felt half crazed. Where was he? Did something happen to him? Is that why I'd felt so suddenly ill earlier, but I was too helpless, too stupid, to act on my impulses and try to save him, where ever he was?

I sat on the edge of the bed and dropped my face into my hands, as I imagined never seeing him again, never holding him again, and my breath began to hitch uncontrollably. What was I to do? I could never go to rehearsal and pretend I was alright. I couldn't even live if Erik was lying dead somewhere, attacked by drunken hooligans in the night. If he could have, he would have sent word, and no word could only mean that he was dead.

I couldn't breathe as grief enveloped me. A widow after one week? No, no, NO, it was not FAIR...

All of a sudden, I was lifted by cold, iron like hands and hard lips crushed to mine. I sobbed into my husband's mouth and desperately tried to hold onto him, but he wrenched me away and I fell hard onto my small bed. I looked up at him through the haze of tears and saw his blurry, tall, lean form braced before me and the unmistakable white mask covering half his face. I thanked God that he was alright as fresh, hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I had a million questions, crowding my tongue, but nothing mattered at the moment except that he was standing over me, alive.

"Oh Erik..." my breath fluttered weakly and he groaned loudly. He grabbed me again and hauled me up to crush me in his powerful arms. He held me tightly, not breathing, not letting me hold him back. It was more a restraining technique then an embrace and I realized that something awful must have happened to him last night to keep him from my side. Perhaps he was attacked, and then detained by police or in a hospital? Did he have a seizure and wake up alone with no memory of his day?

"The dead no longer matter." He rasped in my ear. "I still need you." I didn't quite understand but I could feel his body rigid with need. I reached up to remove the hard white mask and kiss his lips, always willing to offer him my love, but he staggered back in shock. "I cannot!" He shouted angrily, covering the mask with one hand to make sure it was still in place.

His hands were shaking and I was so full of angst and confusion, staring at him in bewilderment that when he quickly tugged the wrapper from my body anyway and whipped my chemise over my head, I didn't even question him. Something was horribly wrong.

His hair and clothing were completely disheveled, which was unusual to begin with, but he was also wearing his uncompromising, half mask which he rarely wore around me anymore. His eyes looked turbulent as they raked over my naked flesh. "Kneel." He pointed at the bed, his command harsh and growling, and I was kneeling on the bed with my back to him, looking worriedly over my shoulder, as quickly as I could. I watched his hands shaking as he shed his shirt and I reached out to him.

"My love, why are..." I tried to speak but he threw his shirt to the ground and grabbed his head as he bent forward. In my breast, my heart was in full panic mode, but I sat frozen in time as I watched him growl and try to rip his hair out. He straightened abruptly and looked right at me, and it was not Erik I saw in his eyes. I tried not to show my fear, and boldly met the dark gaze of this stranger, but I could feel how wide my eyes were. I wanted to scream, 'Get out of my Erik', but I bit my tongue. I did not want to anger this man.

"Do not speak," he ordered darkly as he approached me with a sinister air. He roughly embraced me, pulling me back against him and the feel of his body was so familiar and good that my head fell back and my eyes closed. My husband was alive...

"I love you," I whispered as his hands roughly roved over my breasts and he growled and wrapped his strong arms around me. One long hand grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my cheeks and he turned me roughly to meet his black stare.

"I _know_ you do," his voice was low with venomous threat, almost mocking. He released my face but it was only to grab it with the other hand and wrench it to the side. "I said do not speak." Before I could react, he bit me. Hard. I cried out at the pain of my skin tearing and tears filled my eyes. He was vicious with me, biting and scraping his teeth over my neck, pulling my hair to the side to make me more accessible, or to the front to bow my back for him to tear at. The mask was continually pressed against me, cold, rough and hard, scraping at my skin just like his teeth were. I could feel his body, hard and ready and was a little scared and excited at where this was leading. The last time he was this rough had led to an attack and I worried for my husband, even as I felt my skin breaking under his teeth. I shuddered at the pinch of his cold, hard fingers on my nipples and incredibly, still yearned to be one with him. His touch inflamed me with musical ecstasy. He was impossible to resist in any of his many personas. I was writhing against him in growing pleasure, wondering if he would join our bodies this forcefully, when his hand wrapped around my throat and his lips came to my ear.

"You belong to _me!_" He growled at me, in an ugly voice, and I nodded, eager to reassure him. His grip tightened and I grabbed his forearm in both hands as my knees came off the bed. "You will never escape from me." He breathed it in my ear and a tremor went down my back as this man repeated Erik's romantic words. How could I even keep the two men separate in my mind? They must both be Erik, and they were choking me...

He let go of me completely and I swayed on my knees, wondering if we were done. I felt lightheaded and could feel a warm droplet of blood sliding down my shoulder. I wondered at how brave I was being, and how I was not disgusted at all, with any of this. My body was pulsing with heat and my tears had dried because his touch, whether hard or soft, fired my passion and forced it to rise to meet him. If I was more sure what his reaction would be, I would be trying to talk him down and calm him, take him in my arms and soothe him, make love to him, but I could not lie to myself that convincingly. I was frightened of this side of Erik. When he told me not to speak, I listened, and he was not done with me yet.

He was naked and pushing my face down into the blankets as he pulled back on my hips and pierced my body from behind. I clutched at the blankets, bit my lip at the invasion and heard him groan as my back arched. My face flamed red that my bottom was in the air in such an undignified manner, but he seemed to be enjoying it as his hands dug into my hips to control our movements. He slammed in and out of me as I gasped, breathing in the cotton scent of my bed. My mind was scrambling around, trying to grasp onto anything normal, anything sane, while the stranger in my husband had his way with me.

My body was inflamed with shame as I continued to allow him to penetrate me in this manner. I could not say I was not enjoying it, and that shamed me further. I liked when Erik was rough, when he held me down and when he bit me, but this wasn't Erik, so it felt very wrong to enjoy it at all. His hands skimmed up my ribs to my breasts, caressing roughly as our bodies slapped together, and I felt like I was cheating on my husband with another man, a violent unloving version of my husband. He was as uncompromising as the scowling white mask upon his face and I tried to look back at him to see if I could see my Erik in the man behind me. He was busy bending over me, sliding his hands down my arms and when he got purchase on my wrists he yanked them back. My face was driven into the bed even more as he pulled on my arms and thrust into my body.

I felt like a whore for feeling this way, but I was incredibly aroused by the hard thwack of his hips as they met my backside. I felt like I could feel him all the way inside my stomach, in my womb, into my heart and mind, pressing his way deeper and deeper inside me, when all of a sudden, he climaxed. His body shuddered and jerked, and his fingers crushed my wrists. I laid very still, staring at the corner of my bible, poking out from under my pillow. My heart pounded in my ears and my body throbbed with pain and pleasure. I was still locked in his tight grasp and could hear his breath rasping in and out as he staggered slightly. Warm drops fell on my bare back and it took my addled brain a few moments to figure out they were his tears. They slid up my back and around my neck, the first gentle touch from my husband, and the feel of them sent shivers through my body.

"Oh...Christine...nooo..." he released me from his iron grip and I slumped to the bed. I wanted to scramble up to look in his eyes and see if he'd come back to himself, but my body wouldn't move. I heard him move instead and the room became very quiet and still I couldn't command myself to move. After many silent minutes of listening to the aroused, frightened pants coming from my mouth, I finally slid into a ball on my bed and began to pray for my husband's soul.

**Erik**

I fled from her. I ran blind and naked through the tunnels that were my home. I would never be able to erase the sight of her bloodied back from my eyes, but I felt myself again. The dark sickness was gone, chased away by the unconditional love of my soul mate.

I could taste her sweet, coppery blood on my tongue and though the thought of her blood in my mouth made me want to retch, the actual taste of it was not abhorrent. The voices convinced me it would be the last taste of her I ever had, so I was licking my lips, even though it made me feel like the dirtiest, most disgusting of men.

No. I was not a man.

I tore the mask from my face.

I was an animal.

Did I actually bite her until she bled? And fucking her that way so she would have no chance to kiss and touch me? I knew I didn't deserve the absolution of the angel's lips, but did I have to assault her!

When I reached the lake, I threw myself in, not entirely sure if I meant to drown myself. The cold water chilled me to the bone, and it felt right, since my heart felt cold as well.

What have I done?

I have killed a man...

Who cares...

What have I done to my precious, beautiful, innocent wife?

I broke the surface and screamed as loud as I could, wailing my tormented pain into the dark cave that I belonged in. I was evil. It wasn't just my music or my voice. It was inside me. How could I deny it with the sick feeling of the darkness still fresh in my mind? With death so recently on my unregretting hands?

I pulled myself from the water and lay shivering in the dirt. The damn voices were back in my head, how long had they been absent? They were telling me I belonged down here, I was stupid for reaching for anything more. Now I would drag Christine with me into the depths of the darkness inside me. I'd condemmed her to my fate now.

If only the cave would collapse on me and end my sorry existence.

Tears began to slide down my face. I could not leave Christine! I was all she had! She was my responsibility. She was my wife, my family.

And you just attacked and raped her.

I stood shakily and dragged my weary body to my lair to wash the mud off. I had to apologize to her. I had to explain why...

How can you ever explain away what you did to her? How could she ever forgive you?

You used her.

**Christine**

I only allowed myself to pray for a few minutes before forcing myself up to look over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. The bite marks down my back were already bruising and a few of them at my neck were bloodied. I gently touched the one on my shoulder, that was the worst, to staunch the tacky blood. Seeing the blood on my fingers made my heart start tripping and I quickly poured some water into the basin to wash what I could of my injuries. There were streaks of my blood down my back and I knew those marks were made by Erik's mouth.

There were too many thoughts in my head, too many frightened whispers, so I went to my happy place, concentrated on cleaning the blood and took long even breaths. I didn't want to think about Erik, because if I allowed myself to, I would fall into a heap of tears wondering if I would never see my gentle, loving husband again. What if this stranger took him over and there was nothing I could do?

I repeated the Lord's Prayer in my head as the water in the basin turned pink. When I was cleaned, I pulled my long nightgown over my head and tied back my hair and then sat on the edge of my bed. I replayed his visit, trying to find some useful bit of information. He'd spoken of the dead and I feared he meant the death of my true Erik. What happened to him last night? I picked up his discarded clothing and turned over his shirt looking for any clue as to what happened to him. There were smudges of filth on the front and ink on the cuff but nothing that would help me. I stared in longing towards the mirror and suddenly realized that he'd left through the mirror! I quickly pulled the lever and the mirror slid to reveal the dark tunnel. I held it open with my hand and contemplated going after Erik.

I was certain of the direction, we'd walked it so many times that I didn't fear I would become lost. I did fear what I would find at the end of this dark tunnel. Was Erik losing his mind? Was he already lost to me? Would he hurt me again and again? Was he going insane?

If he was going mad, then he needed me, more than ever, to care for him and to help him find his way back to me. Even if I became injured? I knew in my heart which path I must take. I could never abandon my Erik.

Decision made, I pulled on my wrapper over my nightgown and grabbed a candle.

The tunnel was very dark around me and the candle had very little glow to it. I hated the dark, and turned frightened circles more than once, but I told myself over and over that the only possible person in here was Erik, or the other Erik. Tears stung my eyes as I made my way down. I'd finally convinced him that he was good, and not evil, and then that other man rises within him and makes him handle me like that. The tears fell unheeded as I continued. Was I crying because he handled me like that or was I crying because I enjoyed him handling me like that? What were we going to do?

I began to wonder if Erik did have some evil presence that could control him from time to time. Was there a way to rid him of that presence? And what triggered this to happen in the first place? Would he have a seizure as he did last time? Would I find him unconscious in the dark tunnel?

Part way down, a light spot on the ground caught my eye. As I approached, Erik's mask was illuminated by my candle. I picked it up and clutched it to my chest, staring into the darkness before me. Was he himself once more? Did he no longer need to hide from me?

**Erik**

Uncontrollable rage was building silently in me. Snippets from the night were tormenting me. The crack of a neck breaking. The familiar echo of it through my bones. The light weight of a man as I carried him to the third cellar and hauled him up to dangle from the end of a rope. A pair of large golden eyes staring impossibly at me through a mirror...

The memory of her once smooth neck, with my bloody teeth marks marring its perfection, kept flashing through my mind. I staggered through my door with her image burned into my mind. She was bent over before me, unresisting and seeming to enjoy my touch...

NO! She was terrified. She would hate me!

I tore the sheets and blankets off my bed, the bed that Christine and I had shared in our innocent sin, and threw them at the hearth. I kicked the side table, tossed aside the candlebra, went to the bookcase and emptied an entire shelf of books with the sweep of a hand. I sneered and grabbed the bookcase by it's side and heaved the entire thing sideways with an inhuman snarl. Glass shattered, books flew and thumped, and as I was deciding whether to burn it all, the voices started up again.

She is scared of you now. Rightly so. You have lost her forever. She was yours and you ruined it. You are pathetic.

I beat my fists against my skull. Destroy everything...burn it down...Do not go to her...

Go to her?

The assault of my skull stopped. Go to her...

What was I THINKING? Leaving her there after punishing her like that? After using her... I should have brought her with me when I fled! I should have thrown her over my shoulder and dragged her down into hell with me. Is that not what I was supposed to do? Care for her in every manner possible? Did spouses not follow each other everywhere, to the ends of the earth, no matter what?

She will forgive me. She must forgive me. She is my wife. She is divinity itself, of course she will forgive her husband. She will make the madness stop. She will make the voices go away. She will make them leave me alone.

I grabbed my dirty work pants from the floor, kicking aside the debris and tugged them over my wet filthy legs. I needed to go to her right away. How could I have left her like that, bleeding and assaulted?

I pulled open my front door, ready to run all the way to her side and throw myself at her mercy, but instead came to an abrupt stop as shame filled me to the brim, and then drowned me in self loathing.

**Christine**

I reached the shore of the lake and breathed a sigh of relief as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. Now as long as he was here, and whole, he could let me in, because I was not sure how his front door opened. As I neared it, the door opened quickly, causing enough wind to snuff my candle and the body of my husband was standing before me. There was little light to see who was in his eyes, and his body was caked with dirt, as if he'd rolled in filth and smeared it over his body. He looked wild and fierce, his face bare, appearing half torn, his muscles straining under the dirt, and my heart tripped helplessly. I didn't know what he would do with me, but he still made something course through my blood. Was it fear more than desire and love?

"What are you doing down here?" He asked in complete bewilderment and I felt slightly reassured to hear such emotion in his voice.

"Looking for you?" I hugged myself tight. He seemed to be himself and I wanted to ask him for answers, but I didn't want to show how weak and scared I felt. He stood blocking my entrance and I took a tiny step forward in challenge. "May I come in?"

He stood aside, his face morphing through so many emotions that I wanted to just throw myself at him and hold him and cry for the innocence we'd lost, but I couldn't. I could not show him how scared I was, I might lose him even more. He might shut himself away if he knew I was frightened by him. He might have even forgotten some of what happened. If it would spare him the pain then I would be strong and accept my husband in all his manifestations. He closed the door and when he turned back his face was set, hard and scowling.

"I have not lit a fire, please excuse the cold. Have you notified anyone of your absence from rehearsal today? It is only a few hours until it starts." He moved quickly to the hearth and began positioning wood to start a fire. His movements were stiff, even his voice was stiff and I slowly followed him into the living area. "Perhaps it would be best for you to go to bed and lie down," he commanded without looking at me. I didn't want to leave his side until I was sure he was alright and as my mouth opened to speak, he added more softly, his voice curling with concern. "I will bring you some tea."

At this point, I was cold and hurting and too close to tears. I was just so happy to be with him down here that I did not care that he was acting so oddly, as if we were never married. At least we were together, problems would sort themselves out. I started for his room and he was suddenly blocking my way.

"Not in there." His brow was furrowed at me, the jagged half of his face leering menacingly in the darkness and I couldn't help the stir of anger to suppress my fear of him. Was he trying to scare me?

"Why not?" I was going to add, 'I am still your wife', but Erik bowed his head, deflating to hide his eyes from my view.

"It's...a mess. Please...just go to your room." He sounded so sad and tired that I bowed my own head to hide the gathering tears and slipped past him to my bedroom. I left the door wide open so he would know to come straight in with the tea once it was made. I tried sitting in bed but my back was stinging and putting pressure on it hurt too much. I sat away from the headboard, crossing my legs as I used to as a child and stared at my door. Why was his room a mess? Was it even a mess or was he only hiding something from me? Did he come down here and dig up something? Is that why he was so dirty? What in the world was going on?

I needed to talk to him and find out where he was all night, and why he lost control earlier and now was being so abrupt. I needed to be honest and tell him that he did not hurt me more than I was willing to take. That the recent embrace we shared felt degrading, but it was not unpleasant. I wondered if he would believe me. I listened to the sounds of his movement beyond my door and waited for him to appear. I was missing rehearsal and I did not tell anyone that I would be gone, but Erik's mental health was far more important to me then silly rehearsal. Besides, he owned the opera, as if it even mattered to management if I missed a rehearsal or two.

I sat in bed for almost an hour waiting for Erik to bring tea. I had a feeling he was hoping I would fall asleep but I sat and waited, determination in my heart. He finally darkened my doorway and I sat up straight and asked him to come in. If he wanted us to be formal right now, I could easily give him that.

He stood awkwardly at the bedside, avoiding my eye, as I sipped my tea. I noted that he was fully dressed, and washed, looking his best, while when he'd opened the door for me he'd been clothed mostly in dirt. He also was wearing the mask that I'd left by the door and the rigid formality in his stance had my stomach churning nervously. Who was he now?

"You should apply this to your back and neck." He picked up a small jar from the tray and set it in the sheets beside me, speaking softly. "Sleep on your stomach and they will heal quickly. The tincture in the vial will heal the bruises on your wrists...and jaw." His voice choked and tears welled in my eyes. "I have to go to work," he continued quickly, clearing his throat. "But I've started some porridge for you, readied water for a bath, if you desire, and I will let them know above, that you will return when you are fit to return."

He bowed his head and turned to leave. I whispered his name and he froze. He looked over with a frown, his eyes as cold as a winter's day and I held out my hand to him, unable to say the words to absolve him of what occurred. He closed his eyes and when they opened, those magnificent stormy grey eyes boiled back at me, full of the emotions we were both holding inside.

"Christine...I...I..." he started, his hand tight on the door frame, but he stopped himself and fled quickly. I let my breath out slowly because I was trying not to break down in tears. He was hiding from me again. He was so withdrawn from me that I wondered if we would ever again reach that point of unity that we had at the end of our week. It seemed like it could never happen at this point but I steeled myself to be strong. Erik needed me to be a good wife to him and help him through his difficulties. I had no difficulties because he took them all away for me, so the least I could do was make his life as easy as possible and be patient and loving and kind while he waged war with his demon.

**Erik**

I climbed from the bowels of the opera, leaving my angelic wife in my dark cave. It galled me that she had to come find me, that it took me too long to realize she belonged with me. How could I have left her like that? Did she know that I would have returned or did she imagine that I would not and that's why she came down herself? Did she think I would use her so and toss her aside? I especially did not want to leave her with that impression, but I could not form the words to ask her to understand. The darkness had cleared to show me her bloodied back and the strangely terrified look on her face. I had to run from her. I was stripped down to nothing. I was lower than nothing. Opening my door and finding her already here, coming for me; I wanted to die from shame. I should beg for forgiveness, drop to my knees and grovel and prostrate myself before her. I wanted her to flog me for treating her so poorly. I wanted her to give me back any pain I'd inflicted on her, but she was far too good to ever raise a hand to hurt the man she loved.

Not like me. I'd gone to her, in that hazy state of mind, knowing full well that I would probably injure her...

I punched my fist against the rock and felt the skin under the glove tear apart.

Good. Pain is good, and my gloves are black, so no blood will show.

Cameron was not at the opera yet, so I entered the theater and stalked to where Antoinette was speaking to one of the girls.

"Mme Giry." I heard the ugliness in my voice and swallowed to remedy the sound. I would scare every one of our performers. "My wife does not wish to attend today, tell the others." I dismissed her by turning my back, but she was not so easily dismissed.

"She is a Prima Donna already." The snappy sound of her voice almost had me spinning to strangle her. I took a breath and schooled myself into unfeeling coldness, before I turned.

"She is deserving of that title." I glowered at the severe woman and then used my management position to further put her in her place. I whipped out the list that Cameron had given me and thrust it towards her. She took it and glanced over the paper while I got close enough to lean menacingly over her. "Replacing Meghan is your responsibility," I lowered my voice so no one would hear but her, and then I stalked away.

As the brougham took me away from the opera, I remembered a time before when I'd hesitated to leave Christine locked below ground. It had seemed so wrong to leave her locked in my dungeon, but now it didn't feel wrong. It was perfectly normal to lock away your most prized possession. She was mine, she belonged to me, I could do with her as I pleased.

I cringed at the thought that I had most certainly done with her as I pleased. I should have helped her apply the ointment to the bite marks, but I couldn't bear to see the damage I'd caused. It was bad enough seeing my handprint around her delicate throat and not knowing how it got there. I buried my face in my hands and smelled my own blood soaking my gloves.

Yes...blood...I needed to repent for what I did to her. I tapped the side of the carriage and gave a different destination. I would repent and then go to work.

**Christine**

The underground home was very quiet with only myself inside. I couldn't help making the comparison to a tomb. The candles flickered eerily, sounds echoed ominously and without Erik with me, the space seemed cold and unfeeling. My curiousity was burning me as I crossed the dark living area and opened Erik's door. His room was never 'a mess', which meant he must be hiding something there.

Utter destruction and ruin lay beyond his door. His whole bedroom was torn apart. I saw broken glass and quickly picked up the remains of his butterfly. The glass was sharp and broken, one wing exposed to the air, and when I touched the wing, it crumbled. I put the glass back on the ground and quietly closed the door. I absently stirred the porridge, listening for any type of sound, as I let my brain cycle through the thoughts in my head.

I was married to a wonderful, giving, loving genius of a man, with incredible music in his soul that called directly to mine, and who occasionally had uncontrollable bouts of madness. With all the good inside Erik, did that little bit of...

I was already thinking the word evil, and hating myself for it, but the look on Erik's face when he told me I would never escape him... I touched my neck lightly, knowing that the other man had meant that I would never escape from_ him_. My heart and soul belonged to Erik, but if he couldn't control his madness, I would forever now be the stranger's prey. I swallowed my fear and shook my head. Useless, negative thoughts to be having when I needed to steel myself to that possibility. I called to mind how I responded to his roughness. I enjoyed it because it was still my soul mate touching me, even if that soul was black as pitch. How could I ever tell Erik that?

My mind kept flipping from my own shame to Erik's possible possession. It was much more productive to figure out how to proceed from here, then to dwell on what has already occurred. I had to be patient with Erik. He would open up when he felt he could, just like all the times before when he finally showed me his face or when he told me about his past. He would choose the time, I just had to show that I was still here for him, and that I loved him. I would be the perfect housewife and tend to him, and our house, with love and care. Everything would work itself out.

As I slipped into my hot bath, my mind wandered to more frivolous notions, to ignore the stinging of the bite marks. I wondered what Meghan would think of my absence. I return for one day and then disappear again. She would probably assume I was hiding away with Erik, exploring the pleasures of the flesh, not hiding in the catacombs, too physically damaged to appear before anyone. The bruises on my neck, face and wrists were not black, but they were there, proof of Erik's ability to injure me. Tears dampened my eyes and my heart clenched painfully as I recalled the last night Erik and I spent together in our dream house, making love at the organ with no restraints on our souls, allowing them to weave through the air, rejoicing at the unity they'd found.

I had no intention of losing any of that perfection. I would fight for what was mine, and Erik was most certainly mine.

**Erik**

I pulled my shirt on carefully, mindful of the freshly torn skin on my back. I was in pain and bleeding but I felt better. I felt centered. The pain and discomfort would be a helpful reminder of my sins, but immediately they served to settle my mind. I was an animal, a damn lucky animal, to have Christine in my life. A beautiful, loving, giving soul, throwing away her chance at a normal life for me. I was lucky she loved me. Lucky she would remain my silent prisoner, taking my abuse and degradation...

I gritted my teeth and yanked the jacket back on, hissing as the wounded flesh pulled awkwardly.

I picked up the horse whip that was christened with my blood and whipped it against the grass a few times before tucking it beneath my cloak. I promised Bernard some more help and I was supposed to be working on the house. I glanced up at the magnificent windows that had just born witness to my repentance.

"For her," I told our dream house before walking to Midnight and tugging his reins.

As I rode to the site, I formulated control of my mind. I needed to contain myself. The week alone with Christine in our house had thrown me off my usual scheduling and now a man was dead. I needed regular, solitary sleep and I needed to shut away my emotions. The darkness fed off my emotions. It was the conduit for the devil to ride in on. I had many years of cold emotionless practice to draw on and I would use it now to control myself. I had to hide my involvement in the opera's suicide. I had to keep it from Christine and Cameron. He would most certainly make trouble. And Christine would be horrified if she knew I'd gone to her after killing Joseph Buquet and faking his suicide.

I could feel the cold stone fortress surrounding me. I held the warmth of Christine's undying love close to my heart and built the walls back up around myself.

**_Author's note: HEY EVERYONE! I know it's been two months since you've heard from me but...I would love to hear from you! Drop me a line or two, pretty please? I wrote you TONS of lines... :-P_**

**_Take care y'all, and I promise you won't have to wait too long for the next chapter._**


	67. Bound

**Christine**

When Erik returned late that night, he was very silent. Not that I expected him to come banging in, calling out my name, but I had a feeling he was doing his best not to get my attention. He hadn't even looked up to see me sitting by the dying fire, waiting for him. I was dressed in my black wrapper, which I never wore, because white seemed too good for me tonight. With not a single candle still burning in the living area, I suppose he would not expect me sitting here in the dark, but it afforded me a chance to watch him unaware. He removed his hat and cloak slowly and carefully, as if the work day had been very tiring and strenuous. He glanced towards my dark bedroom doorway before hunching slowly to his room. His steps looked laboured and I held my breath until he was inside his bedroom.

Once the door closed, I hurriedly scampered into my room, not wanting to be anywhere but where Erik thought me to be. I curled up in bed wondering what Erik was doing in his destroyed bedroom. I took a deep breath and immediately berrated myself for not greeting him. What was I afraid of? He probably also took the dark house and bedroom to mean I had gone to bed without him, which was not the case at all!

I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for guidance, strength and courage. I would need as much as I could muster.

I woke early the next morning, ready to make breakfast, but the house was already empty. His hat and cloak were gone, the fire built up in the living area hearth, and there was tea, biscuits and fruit on the table. The tea was still hot which meant he left only recently. I made up my mind to rise even earlier tomorrow and began planning Erik's dinner. I made sure to keep the fire going all day and would make regular trips to sit before it, warming my hands. How did I never notice the cold down here before?

When Erik returned from work I was sitting in the same chair as last night, only better lit. He saw me finally, after more than a day without his attention, and I couldn't help but sit up excitedly.

"I made you dinner." I blurted ridiculously and his eyes flicked to the kitchen, as tension sang through him.

"Thank you dear, but I am not hungry. Please excuse me." He bowed stiffly and went into his room before I could ask if he would be back out. Tears stung my eyes and I rubbed at my face to scrub them out of existence. I took a deep breath and told myself he would be back out, he would not hide in his room.

Do not be a child and break down everytime he doesn't do exactly as you want him to. He needs a strong wife, not some blubbering little girl, starved for his attention. I stood and started putting away dinner, since he was not hungry. I suddenly did not feel so hungry either. I absently ate a few mouthfuls to tide me over until breakfast and put the rest away in the icebox. I wanted to join Erik in his room, but then I would have to admit to seeing the carnage on the other side of his door, and I also felt I was no longer welcome in his sanctum.

Well, I would make sure he knew he was welcome in my room and in my bed. I would not make any more mistakes.

**Erik**

I began pacing my debris strewn bedroom and found it too difficult and probably not a good way to go about 'controlling' myself. I knelt and relaxed my shoulders, draping the backs of my hands on my knees. I breathed evenly and slowed my heart rate.

Just the sight of my Christine could make my blood sing. It was easy enough to put her out of my mind when I was avoiding her, but her sweet, radiant face gazing at me would always undo my heartstrings. Controlling this love for her proved a very difficult task. Perhaps it would be better to try limiting my visual stimulation.

I calmed my body and wondered briefly if I should render myself unable to copulate. It would save Christine from being brutalized by me again, but I remembered our first time together, our wedding night, and our entire wedding week. We had far more beautiful memories of laying together then bad memories. Perhaps some day we would be together again? If I could contain my desires and regain her trust, perhaps some day we would be able to join and not have any painful memories rear their heads.

Now was far too soon, no matter that the sight of her sitting by the fire, waiting for me to return from work, stirred that imprisoned warmth next to my heart and threatened to send fire through my entire being. She needed time to recover. I would be a gentleman and give her the time. I also needed to be more polite, I should not shun her dinner. She was still trying to care for me and act as my wife. I should not turn that away.

I left my room with my mind focused. She was mine and not ever going anywhere. I would accept her care and she could have as much time as she needed to recover. I would just keep my eyes downcast and try not to look directly into those stimulating golden eyes. I would not be tempted into touching her without her initiating contact. That would give her all the control, and she could proceed at her pace.

She was in the kitchen when I emerged and I made myself busy at my desk and heard her return to the seat by the fire. She sat quietly behind me for some time, while I noted the new changes to the build, on my record of the designs. I heard her stand and walk closer and my heart was already accelerating in my chest.

"What are you working on?" she stood to my side, leaning to look at the papers.

"Just making a few notes on today's alterations." I shuffled to a different drawing and started anoting the change, only to realize that I couldn't recall the exact angle.

"Is everything going well?" She was trying to engage me in conversation, but I was concentrating on attempting to write something intelligent on the page, instead of staring blankly at it.

"Well enough," was my gruff answer and she hesitated.

"Would you like something to drink?" she offered, and though I could feel my tension levels rising at her proximity, I asked for tea. She scampered off to serve my wish and I stared vacantly at the paper before me.

Though she was speaking to me in a civil manner and wanting to serve me, there was one thing missing from our correspondance, and I felt it like a huge hole inside my chest. She kept her distance, not touching me at all, and I mourned the loss of her easy, innocent, physical affection. A small touch on my back or through my hair, leaning close enough to brush my body with any part of hers, touching my arm or bumping me with her hip. Such small things she would not even realize she was doing them, but I had always relished each tiny sign of her accepting love.

She was very carefully distanced from me and I knew it was because she was frightened. Just as I would never leave her, she would never leave me, but she was most assuredly scared of me.

_Of course she is_, the dark voice whispered in my ear, and although painful, it was a little easier to shut away my love for her.

**Christine**

The next few days tried me to the very ends of my patience. I was a patient person, but Erik had effectively cut off all his emotion and it was like talking to a brick. Those cool grey eyes would blink at me from behind the mask and I wasn't even sure he understood the words coming from my mouth. Every time I tried to get him to speak to me he would suddenly recall some work that needed doing.

He went nowhere without the white half mask and I never saw him without. I thought I should mention he need not wear it, but I had a feeling he was wearing it for his benefit and not my own. I also never saw a soul other than this cold version of Erik because I stayed locked up in his underground home. I understood why, the bruises on my face, neck and wrists were fading, but if people saw them they wouldn't understand. It was only good sense for me to stay away from everyone above.

I asked him to come to bed with me every night, not wanting him to think he was not permitted and knowing the state his room was in. He would always decline, saying he had work to do, or needed to take laudanum so no thank you and please be comfortable in my own bed without a comatose bedfellow. In a desperate attempt to see some emotion in him, I told him I loved him and he replied in kind, but his eyes were empty and the words meaningless, being repeated just to say them. I felt like he wasn't even the Erik I married. He was the phantom again, that cold mysterious man I met on the roof. He'd closed all doors and windows that let light onto his true self and shuttered all other Eriks inside his own head, and this was just a marionette going through the motions of living.

I began to wonder if I was not the insane one, imaging a completely different person behind the white mask and grey eyes. I almost wanted to just tear the mask from his face just to see some type of reaction. Perhaps it wasn't Erik behind the mask after all?

I wondered if I should undress and throw myself at him, but I was afraid of being turned away. Erik had never denied me love before, but the way he was behaving made me afraid to broach the subject.

The piano was never touched, never played, and I felt like I was being held prisoner from music as well as physical love. They were forever meshed in my mind now after our week in the house. I could not think of music without thinking of making love and vice versa. Erik was my music and he had cut himself away from me. Even if I was allowed to attend rehearsal and perform, I knew it would be a heartless performance. With no love in my life, I had no wings to soar on.

Every morning there were flowers in a new vase on my powder table, my breakfast would be waiting for me, regardless what time I woke. Nevermind that tea was always made exactly how I liked it, nevermind that the flowers were fragrant and beautiful, nevermind that he was polite and courteous to me, my heart was repeatedly broken. It trembled in my chest every time he came home, and then weakened when I did not get a kiss in greeting. I would barely get a greeting at all, a nod of his head before he would disappear into his room or bury his head in work at his desk. He ate my dinner every night, always complimenting me nicely, but the Erik that passionately loved me was missing.

I could have spent the entire time crying for what we'd lost, but I kept telling myself that I would get us back there. We were still together, he still cared for me even if he did not physically show it. He made sure I had everything I needed before leaving me every day, but he was exactly as he'd been before I chipped his walls away, polite, gentlemanly and distant. He infuriated me to no end, with his calm cryptic answers of work, business, and anything that had nothing to do with me. I tried to be patient and always respond nicely with a smile but he had me so flustered that within days, I was not feeling much like myself either. It had only been a week and I had reached the end of my patience.

"Go to work! See if I care!" I hurled the knife and fork, that I'd been holding, at him and he dodged them effortlessly.

"That was uncalled for." He reprimanded with a frown, further emphasized by that damn white mask.

"Is it? IS IT?" I shrieked and then I was laughing. "Well, how dare I? What else could be uncalled for? Perhaps completely shutting yourself off from your wife? Perhaps that is uncalled for!"

I turned back into the kitchen to terrorize the special dinner I'd made in hopes of some grateful response from him. I expected him to just leave. It was what he did now. No communication with me, no love shown. I was just his property that stayed locked in the cave. His well attended, caged property. A week ago I would have never believed it possible but now...now my world was a place I didn't recognize. I felt like Persephone trapped in the underworld with a cold, dark Hades.

"Your bruises have healed," he was close and the softness in his voice had me holding my breath for my husband's return. "If you wish to attend rehearsal tomorrow, you may." My hopes were dashed.

"I may?" I whispered. "I'm so glad to have your permission to leave." I couldn't help the childish sarcasm.

"You are not a prisoner here," his voice was a cold chill down my neck as he bristled. "You could have left whenever you wished."

"And leave my husband?" I turned meaningfully and crossed my arms as my eyes narrowed. "Were you trying to get me to leave you?"

His mouth opened in offense but his usual glib tongue failed him. "No," was all he said.

"Then why are you treating me like this? What did I do?" If I wanted to I could have brought tears to my eyes, but after days of frustration trying to deal with Erik, I thought tears would only mess things. This was the most receptive he'd been all week and I was itching to delve to the root of the problem.

"You did nothing." He answered, bowing his head. "It was...me. I..." he lapsed into silence and I closed the distance between us.

"Please Erik," I reached out and touched his arm gently. "Please talk to me."

I felt his arm freeze under my fingers, and thought I'd made an error, but his eyes lifted to scorch mine, with the most emotion I'd seen in days. "This is the first time you've touched me since...that morning."

My mouth opened in shock. That couldn't be! That was so many days ago...

I was instantly ashamed that I'd let my fear of his dark side scare me from him physically, and to override that shame, I got angry. "Well, this is the most you have spoken to me!"

He looked to argue, but his face softened. "It's true. We have both been hesitant with one another." He spoke as he took my hand from his arm. He traced my fingers gently, "Christine, I'm so sorry..."

"No need to apologize," I said bravely, but I felt his fingers twitch and he dropped my hand, clenching his into tight ugly fists.

"You have no idea what you are saying!" He growled with flashing eyes and then turned and left the house.

I ground my teeth together to keep from crying, but it didn't quite work. Did I really not touch him in all these days? No wonder he wouldn't open up to me, I was scared of my own husband. I buried my face in my hands and I was so ashamed of myself. What could I do now to make this right?

**Erik**

I worked until midnight and then dragged myself home to my underground hell. My wife was scared of me and I was scared to touch her and force on her our natural attraction. I kept reminding myself that this is why I was holding everything in. If she knew what I'd done...

I entered the house and saw she'd left her bedroom door open again. The light from within glowed warmly, inviting me in with it's golden absolution. I hesitated at the door to see if she was awake and then quietly crossed into her chamber. I stood over her sleeping form and watched her breathe evenly. She was curled into the pillow, clutching it tightly, resembling a sleeping angel and I remembered calling her to my side with my music...

Would she come to me if I played? Would she try to deny us our passionate love as she had denied me physical affection?

She moaned in her sleep and moved, arching into the pillow and my name fell from her lips. I fled her warm room for my cold one of destruction. She was dreaming of me. I started picking through the rubble, trying to distract myself. I wrestled with the draw I felt to go lie next to her and touch her. She may accept my touch while half asleep, but sleep is precisely what I needed, not sex.

I laid out her flowers and breakfast in the kitchen as I prepared my tea. I was overly generous with the laudanum, but figured I could use the prolonged sleep. Before draining the cup I settled carefully onto the floor where my bedding was still crumpled in a pile. I tossed the cup back and fell into oblivion.

When I woke, I turned to check the time and couldn't move my arms. I panicked for a second but I felt movement beside me and rolled quickly to find Christine kneeling there. I pulled at my arms and found them tied to my side, my ankles also locked together and Christine's face looked expectant as she twisted her hands together.

"What the devil?" I felt anger rolling through me and Christine gently reached to touch my face, while I tried to wrench away from her.

"Please Erik..."

"You tied me up!" I was starting to tremble as I recalled all the times in my life when I'd been shackled and abused.

"For your own good!"

"Untie me this instant!" I roared at her and tears sprang into her eyes.

"No." Her voice was tiny as she peeled the robe from her naked body, and I glowered at her even as I relished the sight of her beautiful luminous skin. "This is for our good." Tears were falling from Christine's eyes as she climbed astride me and then settled her head to my chest. I felt her soft body wrap around me and groaned at the warm caress of her breasts, thighs, hands and hair. I pulled at my hands again, wanting to touch her now that she was finally touching me, but she'd done a good job of tying me up. My wrists were bound at my thighs, my elbows lashed to my waist and my ankles tied together.

"Erik, my husband, my soul mate...I miss you..." she was crying as she caressed my neck with her lips and wound her fingers through my hair. My body rippled in response.

"I...I can't Christine..." Images flickered through my mind. A dead man swinging from the ceiling. Me, pacing behind her as she swayed on her knees. "Please try to understand..."

"Understand what? You avoid me and won't talk to me. Why do you sleep in here when you know you could share my bed? Or we could go home every night? I wouldn't mind traveling back and forth..." her voice faded as my body stretched beneath her. She was so radiant in her love for me, her skin glowing in the candlelight. I'd forgotten how warm she felt against my cold skin.

"Stop. Please...Christine..." if she released me I would take her, and it would not be gentle. The level of my arousal was disgusting. I was so weak when it came to her. I was tied up and still my erection pressed against my pants, attempting to get free and bury itself inside Christine.

"I want my husband back..." she pleaded with tears glimmering like stars on her cheeks.

"I..." what could I tell her? That I killed a man and had covered my ass. That I didn't deserve to make love to her, touch her, talk to her, have her acceptance and understanding when I couldn't ever come clean about my role in Joseph Bouquet's death? That I was busy above ground pretending to care about the man whose neck I'd cracked without a moment's hesitation? Anger rolled in and I could feel the cold sliding through my body. "I am still your husband. I have not gone anywhere."

Her lips trembled as I scowled at her, beautifully naked astride me. "Why won't you let me love you?" she sobbed. "I am yours, forever, my heart and soul," her hands clutched together between her breasts, "And yet you treat me as if I've done something wrong."

"You are frightened of me." I threw at her.

"I am not!"

"You have avoided me!"

"You've avoided me!"

"You have avoided touching me."

"I'm not now! I'm sorry, Erik, please. It's not as if you tried touching me." She cupped my face in her hands, "Let's forgive each other for being silly and talk about this."

"About what?"

"About what happened between us." Her golden eyes were bright with tears, her emotions balming me in her love.

"How can you still love me?" I asked bitterly.

"How can you ask that? I will love you forever!" She sounded exasperated as her lips brushed my face.

"It makes this very difficult."

"What?" she shook my shoulders. "What Erik?"

"Untie me."

She crossed her arms in defiance. "No."

"Untie me now!" My teeth were gritted.

"No," her lips trembled. "I want you to talk to me."

"Did it occur to you," I finally growled. "You may not want to hear what I have to say?"

Tears fell from her eyes onto my chest and she slid forward to play with my hair. "Yes...but I gave my vow before God and a whole church full of people, that I would cherish and keep you, in sickness and in health and forsake all others. You made the same vow, Erik." She was searching my face intently and I felt that emotional pressure building in my chest.

"I know the vows I made." The love on her face as she gazed at me sent heat careening through my body. She still loved me like that? She threw her head down into my neck and her hair fanned over my face.

"I'm sorry for not throwing myself at you the first moment you appeared in your doorway that morning. I wanted to but I hesitated." She whispered fiercely into my ear, and my love for her had me replying with the same level of honesty.

"I'm sorry for not throwing you over my shoulder and dragging you down with me as I should have." She stroked my chest timidly and I tried to move my hands and was met with resistance. My pride forced anger to surge through me. "Why exactly did you tie me up?" She pushed up.

"What?" My eyes narrowed.

"Did you do it to make sure I would not hurt you again?"

"WHAT?" the utter shock in her eyes was my answer. "NO! I did not want you running away again, Erik! I wanted you to talk to me and not ignore me!"

Her desperation for me was bared on her face and I could not ignore her as I had been. It would drive her mad. "Something has happened..."

"Are you sick, my love?" she whispered brokenly and I sagged against my bonds.

"Yes." Wasn't I?

"Then let me help to heal you." Her golden, angel eyes pleaded with me. "Whatever you need to do, I will understand if you explain it to me, but please, don't shut me out." She was begging me, petting me, as I lay tied up at her disposal, and I closed my eyes. I tried to save her from knowing about Buquet but she would find out anyway. The rumors had spread that Joseph died at the Phantom's hands. Damn stupid ballet rats. As soon as she stepped into the theater she would hear their gossip and she was smart enough to know it was true. What else could have caused such a drastic episode in me?

"I do not want to upset you." I was a weak, terrible excuse for a man, but I needed to tell her the truth. "I did not know what else to do but fall back on the way I used to be. I did not have any problems controlling my..." darkness, "urges then."

"You did not have problems controlling yourself when we were alone at home?"

"Will you untie me?" I did not want to confess while tied up. She might run away and leave me on the floor. "I swear I will...be more open..." She searched my face for the truth and smiled weakly before starting on my feet. She tied me up with her stockings and night shirts and I thought about laughing but it died inside me. "Why are you naked?" I thought to ask while she was working on the knots at my wrists and her face flushed rosily.

"I did not want you to be the only one feeling vulnerable. I did tie you up after all." Her head stayed bowed and when she was done untying me she picked up her wrapper and slowly slid it on. We sat in silence for a minute while I rubbed my unbound wrists and regarded her seriously. She felt that being naked around me was to be vulenrable and as much as I wanted to comment on that, I did not want to fight with her. She felt my stare boring into her head and met my gaze with apologetic panic in her eyes. "I didn't know what else to do, Erik! You are a very difficult man to speak to when you do not wish to speak."

"I know," I reached out to calm her, and touched her curls, allowing my death dealing hands to caress the soft cascades down her back. "I am deeply sorry, my wife. I was thinking strangely, I know I was being difficult." Her teary eyes lifted to my face and I could feel her desire to be close to me. She wanted me.

My heart was pounding as I slid closer, cupping the back of her head. She went limp as my lips descended on hers and the ambrosia of her mouth had me kissing her much harder than I'd planned on. I broke away remembering why I could not. Her hands slithered around my torso, trying to pull me back in, and we both froze when her fingers traced the healing lash marks on my back.

"Erik, what...?"

I scrambled up and away from her, striding from the room, which only allowed her to clearly see the damage on my back. She scampered after me.

"Erik?" Her voice was so small and unsure and I rounded on her with a growl, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her against the wall outside my room.

"I do not want you to think about those marks on my back! They were payment for what I did to you! I paid for my madness in blood, just as you did! They will heal, as your neck has healed. We are even." I didn't know what was wrong with me, telling her my confusing reasons for abusing myself. Her brow furrowed at me.

"Don't you _ever_ do that to yourself again." She whispered fiercely.

"I will do what I..."

"NO!" She shrieked and struggled against me. "No you will NOT! If I EVER see that you have, I'll start tying you up every night! Mark my words, Erik. Never again! NEVER!" She was like a wild animal in my grasp and I had to tighten my grip on her and press her harder to the wall. Unfortunately her struggles were arousing to my instincts, and the fact that she was this adamant about me not injuring myself. God, I wanted her.

"Christine..." I was on the edge of sanity. It had come upon me suddenly, and her robe was falling open. My hands roughly made their way from her shoulders over her breasts to her waist and I felt her go still. "My Christine," I sang her name softly as my fingers dug into her skin. "I love you so..." I breathed before I kissed her deeply to keep myself from coming undone. Her response made a heat wave race through me. She coiled her arms around my neck and arched into me, begging for my love with the undulation of her body. I ravenously ate at her mouth and struggled to undo my pants with one hand. I freed myself and the rest happened so quickly that I think she jumped into my arms. Our joining was fast and hard against the wall outside my bedroom door. My pants sliding down my legs and her thick robe sheltering her back from the stone. She clung to me, gasping her love in my ear and moaning my name and I savoured every second of her body pressed in my arms.

Nothing felt so right, so perfect , so uniquely harmonious as when we were one.

**Meg**

"But where exactly is she?" I pestered Cameron. Christine had missed rehearsal all week and perhaps I was being too nosy but something felt wrong. Buquet is found dead and Christine is missing? Was I the only one who found it strange?

"They are newlyweds. They decided to extend their honeymoon." He was not really paying attention to me and it annoyed me that I was not constantly desirable to him. I pushed the papers away from him and crossed my arms. "Meghan?" he looked up with aggravation in those dark chocolate eyes and I shimmied into his lap.

"I love getting you frustrated," I purred at him and twirled my fingers in his hair. He drew me close and nibbled on my neck, much to my satisfaction.

"You are entirely too frustrating." He growled and began swirling his tongue up to my ear. "What am I to do with such a wife?"

"I can think of a few things..." I moaned and held him closer, so in love with him that I momentarily forgot I was trying to get information from him. "I've seen Erik a few times..."

"You are not speaking about another man while I nibble on you." Cameron was delving his tongue in my ear and I squirmed.

"But if Erik's here then why isn't Christieeee..." I keened as his lips nuzzled me in my favorite spot. I lost track of my senses for a few minutes until Cameron held me tight, putting our embrace on hold.

"Why do you torment me?" He bit me lightly and I knew he was frustrated sexually. He couldn't take me like he wanted to, without help in and out of his chair, and that sort of ruins the romance. I snuggled into him and kissed his neck.

"I torment you because I enjoy doing so. I know you enjoy it too," I slid my hand down over his groin and he made a tiny eager noise. I hopped gracefully out of his lap and knelt in front of him. His dark eyes burned down at me as I reached for his pants. "I love you, Cameron."

**Christine**

Erik carried me to my bed and crawled in behind me to cradle me with his body. "Christine, I should not be touching you..."

"Never say such silly things, my love," I wiggled closer to him, reveling in the feel of his closeness, and his arm tightened around me.

"You must be told." He started to pull back and I clutched his arm tight.

"Please stay! Don't leave! This is why I tied you up!" He relaxed back into the bed but I could feel the tension in his frame. "I am your wife, Erik, I should hope that you would touch me whenever you please." He relaxed a little more and his hand moved slowly over my hip. "You have my permission to touch me...however you please."

His forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Christine...?"

"Please Erik," I laced my fingers with his and drew his hand between my breasts. "Please don't stop loving me because of what happened. I am healed, as you said. Please...be my husband again."

He was silent for a moment and softly spoke. "You forgive me?"

"Of course, my love. I forgave you immediately." I turned to coil my arms around his neck, and knew now was the time to confess to him. "You are allowed to...to h-have me..."

"Stop Christine." He began to pull away and I blurted out the rest.

"It may not have been you, but it was still _you, _my lover. My only lover."

His intelligent eyes were studying me and my heart picked up pace. His gaze became incredibly intense, almost to the point that I thought I must look away or be burned alive by the fire in his eyes. "Christine...I must tell you..."

"Shh Erik, let's speak in the morning. I can't find my words right now," I didn't want to ruin this peace we'd come to and I reached for his lips. He kissed me lightly but I could tell he was not completely willing. Instead I snuggled to his chest and sighed as his arms wrapped tightly around me. "I love you, Erik."

**Meg**

I tried opening Christine's door. Cameron didn't seem to think anything fishy was up, but I did. I broke into her room and started poking around.

It did not take long to find something suspicious. Her basin was full of blood tinged water! I turned to run out her door but then turned back, and turned another silly circle debating what to do. Even if I told anyone about this, what would it prove? I tripped on some clothing on the floor and bent to pick up a man's shirt.

My heart was pounding. What happened here?

I cast my eyes about her room and saw a misplaced tile at the base of her extravagant mirror. I crouched down to inspect it and found a small lever buried in the floor. I poked it and then pulled it and then almost fell over as the mirror slid away like magic. It replaced itself smoothly and I pulled it again to see better what was on the other side. The dark tunnel revealed itself once more and then I was staring at my slack jawed expression.

What the hell?

I scrambled up and stared at the mirror. It looked so normal and real but it was just a...a...facade. I leaned to pull the lever again and the dark tunnel disappeared into darkness beyond the glow from my candle. My heart was pounding. Erik put this mirror in for Christine. She told me herself.

Did this mean that Erik really lived below the opera at the end of that long dark tunnel? The real live phantom of the opera?


	68. Obsessed

**Meg**

I sat in Christine's room for over an hour going over everything in my mind. Buquet was dead. Christine was injured, bleeding and gone, and Erik was the only answer to that equation. I wanted to rush into the dark tunnel and go searching for the phantom's lair in the bowels of the opera, but that was the little girl desires inside me.

The first thing I would do now, is get rid of any evidence of foul play. I had noticed the inspector at rehearsal today and did not want my friends to be implicated in anything to do with Joseph Buquet. I dumped out and cleaned Christine's basin and folded the man's clothing into a neat pile to shove them in the back of my closet.

It was no secret that Joseph had a thing for Christine. I'd often caught him staring at her while he rubbed at his crotch. The man was entirely disgusting, but I now suspected that something had happened to Christine the night of Joseph's death. Did he get at Christine and injure her? Is that the reason she was not at rehearsal? Did Erik quickly and efficiently exact his revenge on Buquet? With Erik's mind control abilities, he could have told Joseph to go hang himself and neatly gotten rid of the nasty man.

I didn't like to think that my gaurdian angel was capable of such devious things, but I knew when it came to Christine, Erik would, and could, do anything. He was capable of it, I heard from his own mouth that he'd killed multitudes of men. What was one more? Especially _that _dirty pig.

I made Christine's bed and noticed tiny drops of blood on the edge of her sheets. Tears stung my eyes at the thought of Christine being injured by Joseph, and I was suddenly really glad that the bastard was dead. I would kill him myself if he hadn't already hung himself.

I knew I should not jump to any rash conclusions, but I now firmly believed that Christine was hiding out with a broken limb or something worse, and that Erik had, if not strangled Joseph to death, told him to kill himself. I would keep all of my thoughts to myself though. The last thing I wanted was for Erik to be carted away on suspicion of murder. If it made me his accomplice, I was alright with that. He had done much more for me and I owed him, not only my life, but him and Christine my love as well.

I was willing to keep their secrets, but I burned inside to discover the truth.

**Erik**

The next morning I woke from a restless sleep, to Christine draped around me. I was lying on my stomach with my arms under the pillow and Christine's cheek was pressed to my spine, her arms tight around my waist. I did not believe that she could possibly be sleeping in such a position, but she was. I relaxed into her bed and enjoyed the feel of her sleeping embrace. Her warm hair and warm body over me felt like absolute heaven. Since she was only using me as a pillow and sleeping innocently, it was easier to control my sexual need for her. First, I had to tell her about Buquet.

But we did not speak of anything once she woke. I kept waiting for Christine to say she was ready, but it never came. She washed, dressed and made breakfast, and somehow also managed to stay in permanent contact with me. I had a feeling she was trying to prove she was not afraid of me by sticking to my side. She even followed me into my room and asked if she could help me tidy. I'd pushed the broken book case up against the wall the other day, and she immediately started piling books in front of it.

"Might as well sort through everything and put the bed in order." She was matter of fact about the entire procedure and never once asked me why I had been living in this state, or how it happened for that matter. She probably understood that it was just another way to punish myself.

I silently spread new sheets on the bed and shook out the blanket from the floor. Christine placed the pillows and patted them a few more times then necessary. "We should be sleeping together," she said softly, smoothing the blanket with trailing hands. "I get restless without you."

I took a breath and remembered my vow to be open. I needed to be honest with my wife. "My sexual urges are difficult to control while laying next to you."

Her surprised eyes looked up as she flushed crimson. "Why...why would you control...you do not have to, Erik?"

"What?" I felt slightly taken aback and then frowned. "Christine..." She climbed straight onto the bed, crawled over and grabbed my hands, pulling me close.

"What do I need to say to make you see?" She searched my masked face with a trembling chin and mournful eyes. "I am yours. All I want is you. I would rather die then be without you."

My heart clenched and I wrapped my arms around her, curling my head over her shoulder. "Do not speak of death." A large lump gathered in my throat as I was slapped in the face with her level of commitment to me. I should have known she would love me just as completely as I loved her. "I'm sorry, my love, I'm so so sorry..." Tears fell from my eyes and she stroked my back.

"I am yours, Erik. I love you. I love every part of you." Christine and I kept whispering to each other, apologizing and committing our hearts, and part of me wanted to push her down on the freshly made bed and show her I was capable of loving her gently. My grip tightened and I ground my teeth together, determined to confess to her before we made love again. "We are married, Erik, we are one. We are one heart, one flesh, one soul..." She trailed off as my arousal became evident and I dropped my arms from her. She clutched at my hands and held them to her breast. "Please don't pull away. All I'm asking is to sleep next to you each night and wake up where you are. Is that too much to promise me?" Her panic was creeping into her eyes again and I stepped forward to calm her.

"No. I will share your bed if that is what you desire."

Her face morphed through her emotions, anger, sorrow, frustration, and back to serenity. "All I want is you, Erik. I thought you wanted me too."

I growled in frustration and forced her eyes up to mine. "That is my problem! I want you, over and over, never sated, never complete unless I can feel your body's embrace around me. Every other moment is insignificant and useless. I would spend all day, every day in your bed and never leave your body. If I could survive on our love alone I would drink from your skin and suckle at your breast and fill you with my desire at every opportunity." She was going limp in my grasp and her hands trembled down my chest where my shirt was opened.

"Yes..." She breathed out, reaching for my mouth. "Yes...I want that too..."

"We cannot survive on our love alone." I was firm with her. She was dreaming of some fairytale if she thought that was realistic.

"I will still cook for us," she whispered at my jaw, her lips brushing softly as her fingers traced the edge of my mask. "We cannot survive on our love alone, but we cannot survive without it either. End this punishment. Please, my love." Her dainty hands were cupping my jaw as she begged me once more to trust in her love. "May I sleep with you tonight? May I hold you close and love you as I was born to do?"

I nodded mutely, kissing her forehead, completely defenseless against the power of our love.

"Good." She smiled and it lightened her eyes considerably as she started sliding off the bed. "I don't think I should attend rehearsal this week. Could you let them know for me, Erik?"

I nodded again and she gazed at me with her heart in her eyes. "Thank you, my darling. I should make us something to eat. You must be famished."

Christine puttered happily in the kitchen, fixing us a snack. I had a meeting I needed to attend and as soon as I was finished eating, I mentioned. "I must go to a meeting with Cameron."

"Say hello for me." Christine planted a kiss upon my masked forehead and cleared the dishes from the table, humming to herself, as happy as could be.

Her wild mood swings were a little disconcerting, but I brushed it off as emotional overtures. I did just assault her, lock her up and then completely ignore her for a week. In trying to keep from possibly pushing Christine beyond where she was comfortable, I had, in her eyes, actually been punishing her.

I also did not tell her about Buquet, and I was feeling like a coward as I made my way to the office Cameron and I shared.

The officer of the law before the large wood desk was not an intimidating man, but his intelligent eyes worried me. Cameron was doing most of the introductory talking which left me able to study the man, but I tried to appear disinterested. How upset should I be by the suicide of a grubby scene shifter?

"Monsieur Karan, did you know Monsieur Buquet well?" He was writing in his small book.

"No."

"Did you know his wife at all?" Guilt seized my chest.

"No."

"I have been told you had an encounter with him?"

"I threatened him when I discovered he was attempting to poison my wife." I watched the inspector take in this information and then he looked at me.

"You just told me you did not know him."

"You asked if I knew him well." I corrected smoothly. "I do not know the deceased well. He worked for me. I paid him. I also told him if I ever saw him close to my wife again we were going to have a problem, but I did not know him well."

"I see." He was making further notes in his book and Cameron added his side.

"I also had words with Monsieur Buquet about his involvement in the poisoning." I fought not to look at Cameron. He did not tell me he'd spoke to Joseph. "He admitted to putting the drug in her water, but said he was paid to do it, and did the deed under duress. He would not reveal who paid him." I knew which fat cow would pay for Christine to be drugged, but I kept all comments to myself for now.

"Perhaps we should have called you in for that incident." I turned the tables neatly and the inspector nodded.

"I apologize for all the questions, but his wife swears he would not take his own life."

"Not all wives know their husbands hearts." Cameron easily brushed aside the officer's sole reason for being here. "He wrote this letter." Cameron produced the scribbled note written by my hand and I couldn't help the increase in my pulse. "It says, 'I do not deserve to live anymore.' Sounds to me like he was at the end of his rope." Cameron actually laughed. "No pun intended."

The officer took the note and read it over. He asked to keep it and there was no valid reason to say no. I worried that perhaps Joseph Buquet could not write and his wife would point this out and his suicide would be discovered to be false. There was no reason to immediately suspect me, but still I worried.

"Thank you gentlemen for your cooperation." The inspector left and Cameron rolled towards the liquor, even though it was not yet afternoon.

"What a stupid man." He broke the silence and I was watching my friend closely.

"I found him intelligent enough."

"A man like Buquet is exactly the sort to commit suicide. He has nothing to live for, probably his wife is ugly as sin..."

"What else did the man tell you about poisoning my wife?" My voice sounded peculiar and Cameron glanced back at me.

"Did I not tell you? He admitted to both incidents." He smiled cockily. "It only took a slight persuasion."

My eyes narrowed. "What business was it of yours?"

His smile waned and then he rolled his eyes. "Really Erik. You have to learn to trust your friends. Christine is the reigning Diva in _my _opera house. I should think her safety would concern me. Not to mention that most times..." His eyes flicked over me with annoyance. "I consider you my friend and would naturally be concerned for your wife's safety."

"Naturally."

Cameron snorted. "You can throw all the sarcasm you wish at me. I won't apologize for what I've done. Christine is an angel, Erik. I was worried for her."

I ground my teeth together to keep from saying anything childish like, 'She is MY angel! Mind your own woman!'

"How is Christine? What did she think of Joseph's suicide?"

"Christine is well. She says hello." I stood, not wanting to talk to Cameron about my wife. He never spoke of Meghan, so why should I give him any details about Christine's mental state.

"Are you off to work on your houses?" He smiled easily and I instantly felt bad for being such an awful friend. I suspected everyone and anyone of giving me up to the authorities, but I could not lay my trust in a man who did not disclose important information regarding my wife's safety. Perhaps if Cameron had told me what he discovered from Joseph I would have been more on guard. Carlotta had been pressing for a mirror like Christine's and then Joseph had been standing in my tunnel. It was possible Carlotta knew all about the tunnels. How far down did Joseph explore? Did my secrets die with him or had he already spread his knowledge to that fat cow?

Things were becoming complicated once more. I would have to walk the tight rope to get us all free from this mess.

**Meg**

I kept all my assumptions to myself and planned my attack. When Erik was leaving the office, I scurried up behind him.

"Good morning, Erik." He jumped slightly and frowned at me.

"Should you not be in rehearsal?"

"Nice to see you too. And what about Christine? Should she not be in rehearsal?" I mocked his serious tone.

"She is staying home today." He kept walking at an incredible pace and I was running to keep up.

"Can I come visit her? I miss her, Erik. She didn't tell me she was taking a break. If she had, I would have spent more time with her last week. She usually tells me when she's going to miss rehearsal." He was really not listening as I jogged beside him so I used my ace. "I wanted to ask you about her mirror."

He slowed finally and glanced at me. "What about the mirror?"

I looked around us dramatically and then whispered. "Should this be a private conversation?"

He halted and then grabbed me and was shoving me down hallways until we reached my bedroom. "After you?" He bowed slightly and I snorted as we holed up in my room.

"What do you know?" He asked immediately and I shook my head.

"Uh uh. You are going to tell me about that mirror before I tell you what I know, because if I tell you what I know then you will keep your story exactly the same. I want to hear what you have to say about that mirror." I crossed my arms feeling smug, but the look on Erik's face made me wonder if I was playing with fire.

"You wanted to speak privately, so speak!"

"Why did you put that mirror in her room?"

"So she could gaze at her beauty from head to toe."

"Christine is not that conceited, try again."

Erik tensed and made a small move towards me before letting his breath out noisily. "Meghan, I sincerely do not want to play games with you. What do you wish to know?"

"Why did you put that mirror in her room?"

Those piercing eyes of his calculated something as he searched my face for answers. "There is a passageway behind the mirror that leads to Rue Scribe. We use it to avoid the celebrations in the hallways."

Now it was my turn to squint at him and measure his words. I did not know where the tunnel led, he could be telling the truth, or he could be hiding his magical underground realm from me still.

"If I promise not to tell anyone, will you show me the passageway?"

"Whatever you wish. May I go now?"

"People say it was the phantom who killed Joseph Buquet."

He scoffed, "I wouldn't believe everything you hear. I thought you were smarter than that, Meghan."

"Why is Christine missing rehearsal?"

"She did not want to be here." His voice was losing it's charm and becoming cold as ice.

"Look at me, Erik." He did look at me, and the chill in his grey eyes momentarily froze my mouth. "Where is Christine? Is she alright?"

"She is at home, languishing in our riches. You are, of course, welcome to visit her, Meghan." He said my name with a pronounced curl of his tongue and I could practically taste the sugar on my tongue. He turned and began to leave. "Just give us some proper notice so we can make sure we are not otherwise occupied."

He smoothly closed the door behind him and when I scampered up to look down the hallway, he was already gone. I closed myself in my room for a few minutes. Something big was going on.

**Erik**

Meghan's curiosity was a cumbersome trial to put up with and I was highly irritated as I disappeared into one of my tunnels. I felt like she was checking up on me, making sure I was treating Christine well, which I wasn't. I suppose it was why I was on edge now. My skin felt like it was tingling all over and I tried to breathe slowly, to calm myself, but my lungs were not cooperating. All of a sudden, my chest seized violently and I hunched over, my feet stumbling. I shook briefly, slamming against the stone as my body convulsed, and then all was still. I slid down the wall as my gasps echoed around me. What the hell was that?

I sat on the ground and let feeling rush back into me. I didn't take laudanum last night but I'd thought I could forgo it every once and awhile. Apparently not. Or perhaps this seizure had more to do with the over activity in my brain. I picked myself up slowly and clumsily brushed off my clothing. I still needed to visit the site and meet with Bernard, and I was supposed to work on Christine's house as well.

I straightened my spine and cracked my neck and continued down the tunnel, but at a slower pace. I had too many things happening at once, the investigation into Joseph's death, the issue between Christine and I, and now Meghan sniffing around the scene of my crime. I ran my hand over the rubber mask once I was confined in a brougham. The glue always itched my skin, just another thing to grate my nerves, but the inspector had given no notice of my prosthetic cheek.

I still had to tell Christine about Buquet, but the more time that went by, the harder it was getting. She thought our only issue was the brutal sex, but she had yet to wonder why I'd needed her so badly. At the time, I couldn't understand why I'd gone to her while so emotionally strangled, but I knew I could always use her body to heal my mind. I abused her and hurt her, and she took it because she loved me so purely that any touch from me was like heaven to her. She was my soulmate, my absolution. She absolved me of my past, my face, my scars, why not all my sin?

She had already physically forgiven me. All that was left was verbal confirmation. But perhaps I could put off telling her the exact details until she would be going above. Then I could sleep next to my angel for a few nights, encircled by the heavenly warmth of her arms, before she found out about my committing murder. Tears burned in my throat as I thought of her possible reaction, and I sat up and checked my ascot viciously. I was just not cut out to be a good man. I warned her of this. I was better suited to evil. My face, my voice and even my disposition were all made for darkness. I sighed and leaned back on the seat to collect myself beore meeting with Bernard and the other workers.

The day passed and I felt as if there were three or four seperate men inside my head. My thoughts were discombobulated and jagged. I wondered if I should bow out early today and decided it was a good idea. I was not myself after that small attack. The men in my head were competing to be in the forefront and I could not keep my mind on any one topic. One man thought of Christine all day, her desperate eyes and her faithful love. One man thought of the inspector and Buquet, he hoped the scruffy scene shifter was intelligent enough to know how to write. One man deliberated over Meghan and her curiosity. One man spoke to Bernard and gave orders, and I knew I looked to be in control of myself, though my insides...

My insides wanted to go straight back to Christine and curl up in her arms and forget the rest of the world existed.

I moved on to our house, knowing there was work to do, but once I was there, I didn't feel much like doing anything. I was still fatigued from my seizure and I looked around the cold silent kitchen with our bed situated against the wall and felt peace wash over me. Being inside our home made all the turmoil in my head cease. While here I was only one man, the man who loved Christine. This house was a physical representation of my love for her and being within its walls was akin to being held by her arms.

I walked through our home and the feeling of peace stayed with me. Perhaps I should move us here. I never felt this calm at the opera house anymore. Christine would also more than likely prefer living here then in my cave. I removed the mask from my face and got to work. There were a few things I wanted to finish before moving my angel here.

**Christine**

The vegetables for dinner were all cut up and I wiped my hands on my apron. I was preparing Erik's favorite tonight in a sort of celebration of us speaking again. I felt much better today. Being down here wasn't so bad. I missed the sunlight, but now that Erik had softened slightly I was looking forward to curling up next to him after dinner and just taking in his familiar scent and listening to the beat of his heart. I loved him so much that I didn't care if he was not ready to make love to me. Just hold me...

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and made myself busy with dinner. He would be home shortly and though I knew we still had things to speak of, I just wanted us to be as we once were, united and connected so close that our thoughts were shared. I tried to stem the tears, but they flowed faster and faster and I had to pull up the chair and sink into it as I tried to get control of my emotions. Erik was all that mattered to me and he was so hard to communicate with sometimes. He could just shut himself off from me, as if I did not matter to him at all...

Sobbing took over my being and I couldn't understand why I was so distraught now that we'd finally resolved our problems. I had nothing to worry about. We were on the road to recovery, but I spluttered and sobbed like my heart was still being beaten around like a plaything. I covered my face with the apron, letting my tears soak into the fabric. I had to figure out how to make him see that I accepted him however he was and there was no need to shut me out, no need to pull away from me.

I suddenly felt a change in the air around me. I could feel his eyes on me and turned to look over my shoulder at my tall, elegantly beautiful, masked man, standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a rose in his hand. His eyes burned with unspoken words as he took in my tearstained face.

"Erik!" I stood quickly and rushed to press my wet cheek to his chest. His arms came around me and I continued sobbing. "I don't know why I'm crying, it's so silly, I'm so happy you're home. How was your day?" I pulled back to quickly wipe at my face and Erik grabbed my wrist to stop me. His eyes were hard as stone, but he lifted his hand slowly and gently touched the tears, wiping them with his own fingers.

"I will not ignore your tears, pet." His voice whispered through me, painfully dry from his throat, and I felt my heart melting at his endearment.

"I'm so silly, Erik. There's no reason for my tears. I'm just so happy, I was thinking about us and I was looking forward to seeing you tonight." I patted my hair to see if it was coming undone and then I straightened my apron and skirt and our eyes met in the silence. I didn't know what to say so I just stepped back into him and reached up to kiss him. I only managed to touch his chin below the corner of his mouth and he stared at me with softening eyes. He crouched and picked up his fallen rose from the ground.

"I brought you a rose." He lifted the flower up to me, with searching eyes as he knelt before me. I looked down into his masked face and suddenly wanted to take off his mask. My hands moved of their own volition and he didn't try to stop me as I pried the hard mask from his face. It clattered to the ground. It had been so long since I'd seen his true face that the sunken skin looked vibrantly coloured and incredibly delicate to my eyes. I swept my hand over it softly, feeling the large crevice with my fingertips. His eyes closed as I touched him and I saw a few tears leak out from under his lashes. "I am yours," he whispered as I touched his mouth. "I am nothing without you."

"I don't ever want to be without you..." My tears sprang back into my eyes as I knelt with him. Our lips met softly and Erik kissed me very gently before sitting back on his heels and pulling me into his arms. He cradled me and rocked me and whispered that he would never leave me, that I was his forever, that we were inseperable. He said a number of romantic things to me, but the word love was suspiciously absent. I greedily inhaled his familiar scent as I clung to his clothing, and decided I that I didn't care if he didn't say the words I love you. I could feel his love in his grip on my thigh. I could feel his love in the cadence of his voice. I could feel his love in the beat of his heart.

Being apart from him made me so frantic. It was always so much easier and better when I was in his arms.

**Erik**

I held Christine in my arms as if she was a little girl. She nuzzled into me as if I was her safe harbour. Seeing such pain and panic in her eyes made me disgusted with myself. I was driving her mad with my determinations. She needed me like she needed air.

How did I allow her to become so dependant? The dark part of me was gloating over Christine's dependance and even the tiny good part of me could honestly find no harm with it. As long as I now paid her the proper attention, she should improve. I reasoned she was not emotionally strong enough to hear about Buquet at this point, and it was another reason to put off telling her just yet. I still would confess at some point, but she seemed very fragile as I rocked her and hummed nonsense. She seemed likely to come apart at a moment's notice. Fragile as glass on its way to meet the uncompromising floor. I was very afraid that if I confessed to her at this moment, she would shatter. I needed to do something to build her back up. She needed something to strengthen her.

My earlier decision to move us to our unfinished home was making more and more sense to me. We would both feel stronger there.


	69. Silent Chaos

**Christine**

Erik was gone when I woke. I sat up and looked around my empty room. There was no sign that he was still here and I tossed back the blankets quickly. I rushed to his room but he was not inside. He crawled from my bed to leave for work and still did not say good bye?

As I passed the kitchen nook completely dejected, I noticed a note on the table beside the rose from last night and a tray of fruit and breads.

_Christine, my beloved wife, please eat something. I will see you this evening. Prepare and pack your bags._

I fretted all day over his short note. Was he going to send me away? I would not let him! Perhaps I should not do as he asked and not be prepared to leave. I deliberated between my options and decided to be prepared. I did not want to disappoint him if he was taking me somewhere and coming with me.

He came in the door and looked for me immediately. It felt so good to have his eyes searching for my presence that my heart was fluttering as he found me. "Good evening, beloved. Are you ready to leave?"

I was very glad I only had to don my outerwear. "Where are we going?" I thought to ask as we crossed the lake in the boat. He spoke only one word as he pulled the oars through the water, but my insides heated with love at the sound.

"Home."

**Erik**

We came in the kitchen quietly and Christine hung her cloak without a noise. She slowly looked about the space as I brought light to our home. The bed was still situated in the kitchen due to the nagging hole in our bedroom ceiling and I wondered if bringing her here was the right move. She said she forgave me and if she could move on from my assaulting her, then I would move on as well. She seemed far happier in my presence then without me near. I could not clear from my mind the sound of her sobbing alone in the kitchen. Nor could I forget that I had stood and watched her for heart breaking minutes, knowing I was the reason for her tears, before moving close enough that she sensed me.

She turned a slow circle in our new kitchen and our eyes met from across the room. She began smiling, her face morphing into the picture of happiness, and as I took a step towards her, drawn to her bliss, she was suddenly hurrying into my arms.

"Oh Erik!" She pressed her cheek to my chest as I held her tight, our constrictive embrace conveying our muddled emotions. "I'm so glad we have come home."

Everything was magic that night. The sight and sounds of my goddess truly moved me. Even just holding her hand felt like ecstasy to my palm. I was thirsty for her in ways that defied reason. I wanted to bury my face in her hair and imbibe her scent until I was drunk. I needed to feel her skin touching my skin. I needed to taste the sweetest of her tongue, the honey of her loins. I hungered for her. Thought and reason were nothing compared to the rush of our combined passion. Here in our home, in our sanctuary, our love was a divine miracle. Each innocent touch echoed through my bones and tonight, right this moment, I wanted to give way to our love. For both our sakes.

I took her down onto the bed, and from the look in her eye, I could have had her anyway I wanted. The shocking strength of my desire bubbled forth and I could not contain the rush of lust that filled me.

I wanted to make love to her right now and on until forever, until we both crumbled to dust.

I worshipped her that night. Every inch of her creamy skin was kissed, suckled, touched, tickled and anointed. My lips tasted each individual place on her body with delicate love, and my tongue bathed her skin with utter devotion. I let my hands possess every inch of her body as I meticulous rubbed each line and muscle with the assorted oils from our bedside. She lay beneath my hands, a glutted, golden goddess, shiny and slick, and she moaned musically in relaxed bliss. I began humming odd melodies to her, knowing her love for my voice, and she sighed and stretched beneath me, sending my nerve endings aflame with desire. I leaned down to her ear to whisper of my devotion.

"Time falls away when I am with you. Thought falls away when I touch you. Reason means nothing when I am basking in the light from your eyes. You are the sun in my life. You are the moon in my night. I revolve around you. You are my axis..." She wiggled around and set her begging lips upon mine. I groaned in lustful glee but broke away after only a small taste. I wanted tonight to last forever.

As my boldness grew, I began touching her intimately and would whisper to her where my fingers were and what I was doing to her. She moaned my name softly and the sweet sound made me shiver in response. Hours passed us by on the bed. I would give her pleasure and then let her rest in my arms, sprawled across my body, but I kept waking her to touch her and taste her all over again. I wanted to possess her so completely, so deeply, that nothing would ever drive us apart. I wanted to worship and marvel at her beauty. She was MY beauty. She mewled for ME, arched for ME, cried out my name, clutched me to her, begged me to join our bodies, but I'd been practicing control all week. Tonight would last forever.

As daylight approached, I led her to the music room and began curling music through us. Her voice rose to join with me in holy resonance, and our love seared my senses. Light poured into our home and I was enveloped by a warm golden glow, washed of everything but light and love. I was whole and cleansed and it was all because of my angel. When the song ran dry I staggered away from the organ and stood to face my wife. My ears were ringing with sudden silence and my vision blurred with tears, from the brilliance of golden light or from emotion, I could not tell.

"We are one, you and I." My voice rasped as I reached out to her.

"I know." She slid against me smoothly, erotically. I took her face in my palm, my fingers pressing into the flesh of her cheek.

"There is nothing on this earth that can sever this bond we share."

"I know." She whispered with a nod, and I swept her into my arms and carried her back to our bed.

It felt like it was our first time all over again, our wedding night all over again. Our bodies slid together and every part of me relished the familiar closeness. The feel of her warm, accepting embrace shattered the walls I'd built back up around my heart and I lost myself once more to her arms.

**Christine**

It was entirely possible this was only a dream, but we were back in our house and Erik was alive again. My husband was resplendent with love and I was enveloped by a heady cloud of his lust, and my own pure, undiluted happiness. This sacred union between us was staggering in its intensity. The strength of our souls united would forever awe me and everything was so much simpler when our flesh was one.

I stretched in bed and languished in the afternoon light. I could hear Erik above me, working in our bedroom, and I was so content I wondered if people could actually purr like cats if the mood was right. After a few more wasted minutes I finally rose from bed to make us something to eat. I had to take good care of my husband and show him I knew my responsibilities as his wife. He must have heard me up and about, for within seconds he was downstairs, standing in the doorway, his grey eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression.

"Good morning, husband." I smiled happily to see that his face was bare.

"Good morning, beloved wife." His voice curling in my ear was just another way he could seduce me, and I shivered at the sensation. He could touch me just with his voice and though I did not understand the ability, I relished the feeling every time.

"I thought I would make us some breakfast. Do you have a lot of work to do today?"

"Nothing dire, but I should work. There are fireplaces to finish and walls to put up and a hole in our bedroom to fix." I laughed at his annoyed tone and bent to stir the fire. When I rose he was so close that I bumped into him with an exclamation and he had to straighten me from falling. "Forgive me for startling you." He was quick to apologize and I touched his chest, his neck and then his jaw, watching his eyes as he stared intently at me.

"You don't startle me." I inhaled his scent deeply and leaned to his chest to rub my cheek in bliss. "You make me feel…wonderful."

His arms came around me and I could tell he wished to say something, but he stayed silent. He only held me with unspoken words building in his chest. We were on the road to recovery, but we still had miles to go.

**Meg**

Maman was going to kill me if she found out I was traipsing off to the Karan house, but I saw no other option. I needed to see Christine, and Erik had said I was welcome, even if I hadn't given them any notice. I told Maman I felt ill and was going to sleep. More than likely she would not check on me and I would be back before supper.

The dark skinned butler answered the door and looked startled, but he brought me inside and offered to take my jacket, which I declined. Then he took me to senior Karan. Nadir smiled when we darkened his doorway and stood to take my hand and kiss the back nicely.

"Mademoiselle Giry, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I am here to see Christine, but I thought I shouldn't be gallivanting in your backyard without coming to say bonjour."

He laughed and offered me a seat. He asked how Maman was and I began to wonder if M. Karan was the man she was sneaking off to visit at all hours of the night.

"She is well. And how is Christine? Have you seen her? Is she well?"

"Is there some reason she should not be?"

"That man committed suicide at the opera house and I thought she might be distressed by it, you know how sensitive Christine can be."

Nadir nodded. "She is a precious soul. I imagine Erik has consoled her."

I couldn't help snorting. "I imagine Erik would."

"Are you also distressed by it, Meghan? You look pale. Would you like some tea?" He reached for a bell but I waved erratically.

"I can have tea with Erik and Christine, not that I wouldn't like to join you, but I might float away if I have tea with all of you. Do you mind very much if I head over to their house? I'm anxious to see Christine."

He nodded nicely and stood to see me to the back doors.

"Say hello for me as well."

"Have you not seen them?" This was continuing to be suspicious.

"I was unaware they had moved into their home already. Last I heard it was not appropriately finished."

"Erik said they were there…" I glanced out over the expansive yard as if I could catch a glimpse of Christine.

"If Erik said so, then they are there. He is a grown man and does not always share with his father what he is doing with his wife." Nadir winked playfully, never suspecting that his son was embroiled in a murder. I tried to smile reassuringly.

"I will drop in to say goodbye later." I promised and then headed off through the grasses between Erik and his father's house.

**Erik**

I held Christine close, knowing she needed to be near me. She seemed able to gain strength from me and as she pulled back from our embrace her cheeks were flush with colour and her eyes were glowing.

"I love you." She said the words so sweetly and with such frank honesty that I tugged her hands close and bowed my head over them.

"I must confess to you, my Christine. I have done something…I cannot undo…"

Loud knocking shattered our peace and I stopped breathing. Who the devil was at our door? The options were limited, but who even knew we were here?

"Stay here." I whispered and quickly ducked down the hallway to the front door. I relaxed when I saw who was at the door, but the sight of her still gave me tremors. She would tell Christine what had transpired at the opera house. She would undo all of my careful building and bring it crashing around my head. I opened the door only because I had to.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle."

Meg looked up at me and her smile hesitated, and I realized I had no mask on. My back straightened and I thought of commenting on her ill behaviour, coming unannounced.

"Good morning, Erik. Is this a bad time?" She grinned cheekily, recovering herself, as her eyes darted over my less than perfectly buttoned shirt.

"Seeing as you did not give us any notice, you are lucky we are…"

"MEGHAN!" My wife squealed from down the hall and Meg pushed in past me.

"CHRISTINE!" They embraced tightly and I closed the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. Why haven't you been at rehearsal? You didn't tell me you were leaving. I miss you."

Christine was running her hand over Meg's shoulder and hair with a great deal of fondness and I watched her hand move up and down, and circle back, petting Meghan.

"I miss you too, sister. Wait until you see the music room Erik built me. You will want to live here with us too." They hurried down the hall, hand in hand, and I followed closely. I could not allow them to speak alone. Damn Meg and her impulsive, curious, loving nature.

Meghan was suitably impressed with the grandeur of my design and gave me a smile and a wink as she removed her scarf and jacket. I did not know what that wink meant and at the first opportunity, I separated the girls.

"Christine. Darling, why don't you put some tea on and perhaps get dressed? I will entertain Meghan for a few minutes."

Christine giggled and held out her robe for inspection. "Is this not suitable for company?" The girls shared a laugh as Christine left with Meg's outer wear. I was rigid stone. My world would crumble apart with one errant word from the outsider, Meghan.

I turned to her as soon as Christine was far enough away, and was towering over her before I realized what I was doing.

"Do not mention Buquet to Christine."

She looked up at me with curious, sky blue eyes. "Why not? Does she know what happened? Does she know what you did?"

I could feel my insides screaming as I grabbed her wrist to haul her closer. How did she know what I did?

"Do not mention him at all!"

"Ouch! Erik!"

"Do not say a word to her about any of the gossip."

"That hurts! Let go!" She tugged on her wrist but I couldn't let go. She didn't understand how dire her cooperation was.

"Meghan…" Her name rushed from my lips as I felt my core trembling. "Please…" Christine would leave me. She would never stay with a murderer. She would leave with Meghan. I would never see her again. My light and love would be gone forever and the darkness would swallow me and I would just submit. What else did I have left?

Soft fingertips touched my chin and my eyes opened to a slightly blurry image of Meg. I blinked madly to clear my vision and she was gazing at me with knowing blue eyes.

"I won't mention him. I promise, Erik. I don't want to upset Christine. I love her too, you know."

I could suddenly breathe again and I noticed my grip on her wrist. "Thank you." My hands were shaking as I withdrew and Meghan took my trembling hand in both of hers.

"Are you alright?" She looked worried for me, and I stood back and fixed her with a raised eyebrow, tucking my hands safely behind my back.

"Besides having my morning interrupted…"

She laughed at me. "It's practically afternoon."

"I don't recall receiving proper notice…"

"Oh, poo." She waved her hand at me and turned to take in the room. "This is quite a room, Erik."

"Do not think you can so easily distract me, but thank you."

"Who would have thought a hole in the ground could so quickly become a castle for a princess?" She moved to the large window and took in the view of the stream. "I stopped by to say hello to your father."

"How is he?" I was trying to relax, but now I was wondering what she said to Nadir.

"He looked well. He didn't know you were living here." Meg glanced at me over her shoulder. "But where else would you be living if not with him?" I knew exactly what Meghan was thinking and wondered if I should just tell her about the underground apartment. She was so overtly curious that she was bound to find out, especially if she began pressing Christine for answers.

"I have another residence."

Her eyes glimmered and she turned to lean against the glass. "Do tell." I furrowed my brow and studied her. "Erik," she sighed, as her eyes looked skyward. "I love Christine with all my heart, but you know that I love you too, right?" I felt a blush rise in my cheeks and stared at my feet as my deformed cheek throbbed unpleasantly. "My loyalties lie with you just as strongly as they lie with Christine. I won't tell anyone your secrets." She finished softly and I looked up.

"I have done nothing to deserve any loyalty from you." Her eyes flashed.

"Shut up!" Her palm slapped the glass as she faced off with me. "Everything you do for me, makes me love you a little more. You saved me, cared about me, I bet you would build me a house just like this if I asked you to, wouldn't you?" She shook her head in exasperation. "Nothing is too much or too little for you. My guide and guardian at every turn and yet I am supposed to brush this off and care not one bit for you and your family? I would throw myself on a sword if it meant saving your life!"

My lips pressed at her exaggerated supplicating pose and I felt my eyebrow rising at her again. "That is just slightly overdramatic, Meghan."

"Well, you have your own dramatics too." She muttered as she absently rubbed her wrist. The motion did not go undetected. I stepped closer to her and took her hand to inspect the damage I'd caused.

"Did I hurt you? Christ! All I do is cause hurt and ill wherever I go."

"No, no, I'm fine. Really, Erik. You were upset, I understand why. I promise I won't say anything." I felt like I was deflating before her eyes.

"Thank you. I am…afraid to tell her." I glanced at the door, thinking I heard the kitchen door open and close. "I swear I will tell her soon, but it must be the right moment. She has not been feeling well lately." I could not detect the shushing footsteps down the hall, but I lowered my voice. "By the way, how did you discover what occurred?"

"Common sense." She grinned, and then leaned close. "And I broke into Christine's room. I saw the blood, but don't worry. I cleaned up any trace of a scuffle. Whatever he did to her, I'm glad he's dead. You were right to take care of him."

"Take care of whom?" Christine asked sweetly, as she breezed into the room in a simple pink dress with her hair pulled over one shoulder in a loose braid. Her tray was filled with biscuits, fruit, sandwiches and tea and my outsider turned accomplice saved us.

"Oh, of Cameron." Meg waved her hand easily and moved to inspect the tray of goodies. "Erik was just looking out for me, making sure I know what I'm getting myself into. I know it will not be an easy life for me, but that man knows how to touch me."

Christine bobbled putting the tray down and then admonished Meghan for saying such a thing. Meg only laughed and admitted it was certainly true as Christine turned as pink as her dress.

"You should not speak of the intimacies between you." Christine was frowning at her friend and it was my turn to distract.

"Shall I fetch another chair or shall I leave you girls to catch up?" Christine looked surprised and bade me fetch myself a chair. She wanted me to eat something before getting back to my work on the house and the only furniture in the music room, besides the organ bench, was the small table the tray was on and the chaise lounge the girls were sitting on. As I left the room, I squashed the urge to give Meghan one last hard look. She would not tell Christine anything. I could only trust her. She felt Joseph's death at my hands was some heroic act of justice when really the whole affair was appalling. The man did not do a thing to Christine, but I killed him for looking.

I could feel myself sneering and my mood was rapidly becoming unwelcome for company. I splashed some cold water on my face, to get control of myself, and comb my hair back from my face. Before returning I popped the mask over my deformity and buttoned more of my shirt. The chair preceded me into the room, but Christine's eyes followed my approach and Meghan cleared her throat so many times that I thought she might be choking.

"Christine?" Meg leaned close to her ear and my darling wife was smiling at me daftly with only the gentlest curve to her lips. Meg sipped her tea thoughtfully, glancing between Christine and I, as I put down my chair and sat. She put her cup back on the table with a loud clink. "Just to be clear, I am not allowed to mention how Cameron touches me, but you…" She poked Christine in the side. "Are allowed to give bedroom eyes to your husband and practically eat him with your stare?"

Christine flushed again and her eyes dropped from me. I couldn't help feeling bolstered by her obvious adoration and I came to her rescue.

"My wife and I were rudely interrupted this morning by an unannounced visitor."

Meghan laughed and started telling Christine that she thought her mother had a paramour. I let them have their silly girlish chat as I silently and carefully ate a few of Christine's sandwiches, but I almost choked when Meghan went on to say she thought it was Nadir.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I asked abruptly, knowing how strongly Nadir still loved his wife.

Meg smiled in an overly fake manner. "You don't think I'm good at guessing things, Erik?" Her fluttering lashes suggested too many other things that she was very good at guessing and I went back to my sandwich with a mumble.

Another few minutes of Meg's recounting of rehearsals and gossip about everything around her and I was ready to return to my work. I finished my tea and stood to excuse myself, but Christine bounced in her seat.

"Are you going to play for us, Erik?" Her smile charmed me so completely that I was sitting at the organ faster than you could say trained monkey. I collected my thoughts as I warmed up my fingers with some scales and arpeggios and as I began weaving a song I was thinking of my wife, my darling Christine. I really was obsessed with everything about her.

The way her hair tumbled in my hands. The shine of her eyes, even in the dark of night. The feel of her skin, like warm, rose-scented satin. The way our bodies tangled together effortlessly.

I immediately halted where my thoughts were headed and concentrated on playing nicely for the girls. No erotic thoughts, Erik.

But it was no use. My mind conjured images of Christine sitting upon the very keys I was currently fingering. My heart was racing as I made the decision to cut the song short. I turned to tell them I needed to get to work and found Christine gazing lustily at me and Meg fanning her flushed face.

"Whoa." Meghan touched her cheek and then took a shuddering breath. "That was some song, Erik. Very…touching."

I was a damn fool for forgetting how penetrating my songs can be.

"Forgive me, Meghan. It has been quite some time since I played for an audience."

"Isn't it marvellous, like the music is dancing inside you." Christine gushed and Meg gave her a strange look that she did not see.

"Yes, dancing inside you is a nice way to put it. When did you ever play for an audience, Erik?"

"When I was younger, I would play for Nadir's dinner guests."

"Did you drive any of them crazy?" Christine's mouth dropped open at Meg's blunt assessment.

"Only one," I admitted quietly and then stood from the bench. "I must finish some work. Excuse me, ladies."

**Meg**

Erik left and I sat closer to Christine, putting my arm around her tightly.

"Tell me, how have you really been? You look pale, sister."

"I'm well." Her head rested on mine. "You shouldn't poke Erik, he is very sensitive about his music."

"Well, maybe he shouldn't try to beat my skull with the notes."

Christine goggled at me. "Is that what it felt like for you?"

I pulled away from her uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But Meg, it feels wonderful to have his music flowing through me."

"Maybe because you love him? It was like an invasion into my thoughts and into my body…I said I don't want to talk about it." I shrugged off her hands and tried to forget the way Erik's music pulsed in my veins, coaxing me to dance.

Christine sat there with a tiny pout on her face and I finally pulled her in for a hug. "I'm sorry I'm so nasty, sister. I was worried about you for days and then I find you living in luxury…"

"Why would you be so worried? I am a newlywed." She whispered with a tiny smile.

"I was worried because…" I glanced back at the door, wondering if Erik was far enough away. I shuffled closer to Christine and touched her cheek. "I didn't know where you'd gone to, you practically disappeared, and I went into your room. I cleaned up the blood, Christine."

If ever I had an answer, the immediate and sudden paling of Christine's complexion was enough.

"Did he hurt you?" I whispered, holding her hands close. Her mouth opened and I watched her lips tremble. I pulled her close and ran my hands over her hair. "Shh, don't cry. It's all over now. He will never hurt you again."

"How…do you…?" It sounded as if she might start crying and I pulled back to hold her face close to mine.

"Never mind any of that. We can talk about this another time. Erik will kill me if he knows I've made you cry."

She took deep breaths and closed her eyes. "Don't tell Erik that you know. It will upset him."

I wondered what else these two were hiding from each other as I promised my best friend I wouldn't mention it to her increasingly interesting and dangerous husband.

**Erik**

I managed to lock up my thoughts and work for almost an hour before soft knocking on the bedroom door stopped me. Christine was giving Meg a tour before she left and wanted to show her the window in her bedroom ceiling.

"It's just a hole?" Meg was unimpressed and I had déjà vu as Christine gushed about what it would be.

"A gateway to the heavens." She sighed, gazing skyward, and Meg laughed.

"Looks like a hole in your ceiling to me! Where's your bed? Are you sleeping on the floor?" Her laughter had Christine pinching her and the two giggled as they moved into the bathroom, where it sounded as if Meghan was more impressed by the hot water spout. It warmed my heart to see Christine so carefree and full of light and I knew Meg had said nothing. I would be able to tell with my sensitive sweet flower. They re-emerged and Meg caught my eye.

"It's a great house, Erik. I wasn't kidding, I might ask you to build me one." She grinned and then waved as Christine showed her the back stairs down into the kitchen. I hesitated to follow them like a shadow, but I decided to instead meet them at the front door to say goodbye to Meg.

They came from the kitchen, arm in arm, still engrossed in speaking about something, but they stopped when they spotted me. "Come to bid me adieu?" Meg put her arms around me lightly and I hugged her back, glad she was my accomplice and friend. "Christine?" Meg turned and Christine opened her arms, but before they held one another, their lips pressed in an intimate, love infused gesture. The girls kissed, innocent, quick and gentle, but with their eyes closed and love suffusing the air around them. My mouth went slack as blood rushed downward. There was such love between them that they expressed it the same way Christine and I did? I began wondering if they did more than kiss each other when I wasn't around and a confusing surge of jealousy and desire pulsed through me.

They squeezed each other tight as I finally snapped my mouth shut. Meg left with another wave and as I shut the door, Christine sighed happily. "It was so nice to see her. I think I might go back to the opera tomorrow. I do miss singing and performing."

I began leading my wife down the hall to our temporary bedroom as I made some sort of noise to acknowledge that she had spoken. She said something else but a buzzing had taken up residence in my ear.

I wanted to fuck her.

The sight of her and Meghan kissing arose a jealous lust within me and my mind was focused on keeping Christine purely mine by forcing our bodies to join in their private act of passionate love.

I already had my arm around her, so when we passed into the kitchen all I had to do was step in front of her and plant my lips where Meghan's had touched. She made a noise, probably because I cut off whatever she was saying, but she quickly melted against me, tilting her face to accommodate my mask as her hands rose to wander. My hands traveled to her dress where I was poised to rip it off her body, but her gentle fingertips on my neck to draw my mouth closer, stopped me. I needed to be gentle. I needed to confess to her. I needed to be a good, responsible husband, not a sex driven animal.

I let my hands slip down to her waist and held her off to the side so she would not feel my arousal. "I should get back to my work." I managed to choke out. She let me leave her, saying she would tidy things down here, and I escaped to the upstairs under the guise of working. I collapsed to the floor and tossed the mask from my face in disgust.

I was still aroused imagining my wife and another woman in an intimate embrace. Both of them were unaware of the dark thoughts their innocent action had arisen. If they knew I had been aroused by their actions they would be disgusted. Thank god Meg left quickly and did not glance down at my pants.

I was disgusting. A deformed murderer, a sex driven fool, a waste of skin. The only redeeming bit about me was that I made Christine happy. For how much longer, I did not know.

**Christine**

Erik worked until late. I was sitting in bed with a book when he finally came downstairs. I'd offered him dinner and tea but he'd declined everything, saying he wanted to finish what he was doing. I put down my book eagerly as he rolled his shoulders a few times.

"I will be able to mount the new window tomorrow."

"Then we will move into the bedroom?" I was excited to say the least. "How wonderful." I clapped happily as he removed his shirt and revealed that hard sculpted torso of his. I felt a rush of desire as I stared at him disrobing. He must have felt my gaze for he looked over after his pants hit the floor.

"I was going to wash quickly before coming to bed. I will be very quick, you won't even miss me." He smiled slightly and then headed back up the stairs naked. I slipped out of bed and followed him up.

When I pushed open the bathroom door, he was just ducking into the hot water shower he'd cleverly installed.

"I've just come to watch." I laughed and sat on the stool, holding his towel in my lap.

He chuckled. "It's hardly a show."

"Speak for yourself."

"Christine…" He chided me, but his eyes were closed under the water so he didn't see how my eyes ravished him from head to toe. When he'd walked into the conservatory earlier in the day, mask in place and hair slicked back, his stride oozing authority as he effortlessly held the chair before him…well, I'd been more than willing to have a 'nap' after Meg left but he was so determined to finish up the house for me.

At the moment, my body was responding to the sight of his naked flesh as I remembered his commanding, authoritative presence, but as he turned, the lash marks across his back stood out with glaring evidence of his own abuse. I sighed discretely and watched his buttocks flex as he washed his hair. My Erik was a complex and captivating man. I needed to be a stronger woman but I wanted him all the time. I wanted him right now. It was weak of me to be so willing all the time. Meg spoke of putting Cameron off once and awhile so he stayed interested but I don't think I was capable of saying no to Erik. As he dried himself I resisted the urge to tell him I could dry him with my tongue.

We went back to the kitchen and he crawled in bed with me completely naked. I assumed we would be intimate. We were constantly intimate when all was good. I shimmied close and my body tingled as he curled behind me. His hands skimmed up my ribs to cup my breasts and the entire length of his body brushed mine. I arched with eager delight, but he merely kissed my shoulder once and promptly fell asleep. I disappointedly listened to the soft sounds of his snores, but I knew he had worked hard today. I consoled myself by thinking that he would have more energy in the morning and snuggled into the perfect curve of Erik's body as sleep slowly over took me.

Someone was speaking and I woke with a mumbled response, even though I did not know what was said or what I was saying. I lay nestled in Erik's embrace for a moment, staring at the ceiling of our kitchen when I heard the talking again.

It was Erik talking in his sleep. I couldn't understand what he was saying and I turned over to look at him, afraid he was having a nightmare. His face seemed peaceful and as I watched his lip twitch, he again spoke.

"Kiss her." He said and then he moaned lightly and his head turned on the pillow. A small smile curled my lips as I wondered if he was dreaming of me. "Yesss." He rasped, as if answering my question, and my face flushed. He turned again and I marvelled at the vibrating tension in him from just a naughty dream. "Again," he groaned, "Don't stop."

I giggled and wished I could see into his mind to see what he was so enjoying. I let him thrash gently and talk for a few more minutes until I took pity on him. I propped myself up over him and kissed his lips. His eyes shot open and he grabbed me by the upper arms. He stared at me blankly and I giggled.

"You were talking in your sleep."

"I was…?" He looked a little lost and I let my hands run down his chest.

"It sounded like fun." I almost reached his hips and groin but he quickly scrambled away from me and took my hands. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

**Erik**

"Do you want to tell me about it?" She asked sweetly and I tried to tamp down the rush of lust pulsing in my cock. There was no way I was telling her about my explicit dream. A very graphic embrace between Christine and I, with Meghan added in, was not the sort of thing you divulged to your loving spouse. How could I tell her that I dreamed of her kissing her best friend and peeling off her clothing and laying her on the bed so the both of us could explore Meghan's body together? The image of our limbs writhing like snakes in the bed sheets made me feel like a dirty scoundrel and I tried to keep Christine's hands off of my unworthy self.

"I can't really remember, let us just go back to sleep. Forgive me for waking you."

"Erik…" she laughed and tried to get a hold of me. "You were moaning in your sleep. I think I know what you were dreaming about." She teased me with her words as she rubbed her hips against my thigh, still trying to get her hands on me.

"I am not in the mood for intimacy, Christine."

"Oh, I think someone is embarrassed. Did your dream already do my job for me? I think you should let me check?" She was laughingly struggling against me as I lost the battle with one of her wriggling hands.

That quick hand slipped down over my rigid cock and her delicate, soft fingers stroked me lightly. I choked on my words of warning as I felt my release rush up and explode out of me. My hips jerked helplessly and her hand froze. I wanted to die.

I thought of apologizing but my mouth could not speak any words. She gently withdrew her hand and I covered my face with my arm as she finally spoke.

"It must have been a really good dream." I couldn't help thinking she sounded jealous.


	70. Disconnect

_**Author's note: Hello all! It has been a long time. I debated whether to leave a note because I like for everyone to just enjoy the story and not listen to my ramblings...but after finishing I realized there are a ridiculous amount of point of view changes in this chapter. I thought I should warn people since it's not everyone's favorite thing to swap view points after a few paragraphs. I just wanted to say there are ten changes (yikes!) but the story still flows along so you tell me if it bothered you...? **_

_**Otherwise...Enjoy!**_

**Erik**

The carriage ride to the opera house was painfully silent. Christine sitting directly beside me was both welcoming and uncomfortable. I knew if she had decided to sit across from me I would be fretting over why, but with her delicate fingers laced through mine, I could not forget what happened in bed this morning at the mercy of said fingers.

The entire morning had been quiet and tension filled and the carriage ride was no different and now Christine would be going to rehearsal where gossip was sure to find her ears and I still had not mentioned Joseph Buquet to my wife.

I might as well be a twelve year old boy again for how ashamed and ill at ease I felt. Christine sighed and rested her head on my shoulder and I stiffened. I was sure she noticed but she did not say a word. The silence drew out and echoed beyond the rattle of the wheels and clopping of hooves. The silence breathed between us and though her hands held mine and her cheek was upon my shoulder, I felt miles away from her.

How could I dream of Meghan as I did? I did not love her, though Meg was constantly telling me she cared for me. How could I betray Christine in such a manner? How could my mind conjure such disturbingly real images that sent my body into an uncontrollable frenzy of pleasure? It was disgusting. I was disgusting, dishonourable, and vile. How could I let Christine close to me? She was such an angel, so pure and innocent and precious and trusting…

I hedged and hesitated, having a dozen conversations with my wife in my head, until the carriage stopped in front of the opera house. Christine began gathering herself and I called out to the driver. "Give us a moment!" I took Christine's hands and stared at the rings on her fingers. She had moved her engagement diamond to her right hand and wore the tripled banded wedding ring on her left. Those were my rings, and she had accepted them with her whole heart. I had to confess. Whatever monstrous creature I was, I belonged to her, and that was all that mattered. "I have not wanted to tell you, for fear of upsetting you, but that goes against what I would want from you in return, so I will confess." My words were spilling from my mouth, in a rush to make her understand. "Joseph Buquet is dead. It is believed he killed himself but…"

"He's dead?" Her hands gripped mine momentarily and then her breath gasped from her mouth, in a half laugh. "Is it awful that your news has made me happy?" Her statement totally shocked the rest of my confession into silence. "That man was just dreadful. He always made me so nervous. I hope he is in heaven, I hope he did not suffer, but I am glad he is gone from here. Every time he came near me I had uneasy chills."

She shivered now and I mindlessly put my arms around her to embrace her tightly. "I am sorry." I whispered into her hair and neither of us commented on why I should be sorry. I saw her inside and left her with a quick kiss. I huddled in the carriage and cursed myself backwards and forwards. What was wrong with me? Did I want her to discover my sin from the lips of another? Is that the kind of man I wished to show her because that is what I was allowing! Did I not have more courage than that?

I grumbled to myself in the confines of the carriage and though I was almost at the site I banged on the side of the carriage and bade the driver take me back to the opera house quickly. I had to see Christine. I had to give her my explanation before she was tainted with someone else's opinions. I had to take responsibility for my actions and tell her what I have done. How could I leave her there so unprepared?

**Christine**

Rehearsal was a colorful whirlwind of activity and sound after being away for so many days. My days with Erik were intense, but also mostly quiet and comforting. The only small similarity was the barrage to the senses. When Erik and I made our incomparable music, it overwhelmed every fiber of my being, much like the dense cacophony of rehearsal noise. So many people chattered at once that it created a hum of noise where few words could be deciphered. My ears rang with sound. Carlotta came to say hello and told me I was an unnecessary part of the proceedings. All I could do was smile and say thank you for her honesty. I had no patience for her games today so I found Cameron and sat to catch up with him.

"Christine! How lovely to have you back? People were wondering if you would ever return."

"Why would I not return?" I laughed at his exaggerated wide eyed expression.

"Why, you were taken hostage by the opera ghost, who spirited you away to his dungeon where he beat you and enslaved you to sing for him and him alone." He rolled his eyes and snickered. "Meghan is one of the more level headed dancers."

"I know." I wisely did not comment.

"And even she is notoriously un-level." His eyes had wandered over to where Meg was twirling and I pressed my lips together. It was nice to see how much he yearned for her, but Cameron noticed his straying attentions and turned back to me, ever the gentleman. "The inspector has asked to speak with you, but I am sure Erik will not allow you."

"Inspector?" I felt as if every movement and noise around me halted. Or perhaps my attention was now solely focused on Cameron.

"He is looking into Buquet's death, though I hardly can understand why. The man left a suicide note and hung himself. Cut and dry."

When Erik had said Joseph was dead, I thought he only meant he had died, not that he'd killed himself! And I had said I was happy! My throat felt very dry.

"The inspector does not believe he…took his life?" I managed to ask and Cameron seemed bored as he checked some papers in his lap.

"Who cares?" He shrugged. "Do not worry, Christine. This will run its course and the inspector will become bored. Perhaps the man is looking to be promoted. He seems daft to me though, asking questions about the phantom, as if a specter would be capable of perpetrating the crime." Cameron laughed and I felt sick.

"The phantom? You mean, Erik?" I felt dizzy and Cameron guffawed.

"Exactly! We know just how absurd that is! Why would Erik, under the cover of darkness, masquerading as the opera ghost, hang a scene shifter for no reason at all?" Cameron seemed to think this was all a joke, but my heart was skipping oddly in my chest.

"The man poisoned me." I heard myself say.

"Oh right." Cameron sobered himself and then patted my hand. "Do not worry, Christine. It's just the rumours that finger the phantom in all this and the phantom does not even exist. Erik and I burned all his notes a few weeks ago."

"When did this happen?" My ears were ringing and I finally processed exactly what Erik said in the carriage before I interrupted. 'It is believed he killed himself but…I must confess…'

How many times had Erik used the word confess recently? The memory of a malice filled voice rasping in my ear, made me feel weak. 'The dead no longer matter.'

"The other week," Cameron gestured as his voice came from a distance. "Two weeks I believe? Some trivial blip in time…Christine?"

Blood was rushing and roaring through me and I gratefully tilted forward for the floor to swallow me.

Cameron's face was the first I saw and I realized he was lying beside me on the floor. Too many questions made my head ache for emptiness and I closed my eyes again.

"Christine?" Cameron patted my cheek and my head lolled towards him. People were rushing around us and that annoying hum of words buzzed in my ears. "Can you hear me?" His dark brown eyes searched my face for comprehension and I nodded weakly. "Are you alright?" I finally noticed his legs were very slim next to mine, but his arm was a thick pillow beneath my head.

"Are you?" I asked worriedly as Meghan skittered to flop beside me as well.

"What happened? Did you faint again?" She searched my face worriedly. "And Cameron!" She fixed torrid blue eyes on her beau. "Did I see that right? Did you launch yourself from your chair to catch her?"

"I didn't want our diva to smack her pretty face on the ground. How do you feel, Christine?"

"Hollow…" My small voice answered. Cameron began barking orders and got himself back into his chair and rehearsal back on track. Carlotta was trying not to smirk, but as I watched her prance about the stage I was determined to still perform tonight. I sat quietly with Cameron, staring at nothing, nursing a glass of water, until people paid us no attention. Everyone probably thought I was daft for how little emotion flickered on my face. Finally Cameron leaned over and took my hand.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"Truly, you do not need to perform."

"I want to." My voice sounded strange to me but I had no desire to delve inside me and see why. I was purposely blocking any thoughts from forming by keeping my eyes on a pompous hideous Carlotta. Meghan kept shooting worried glances at me and even came and silently gave me more water. I stared at nothing and time floated by like a dream. People spoke to me and I know I answered them, but no one had my true attention. I was locked in my head, too scared to finish seeing what had happened a few weeks ago when Erik was possessed.

I was not fully paying attention to what was happening on stage so when a loud thump echoed and shouts and screams erupted, I had just enough time to look up and watch as a cluster of backdrops fell from above. Time slowed to the moment between one breath and another, and I had time to see if there was anyone standing below. Mme Giry looked up in horror as the heavy bolts unravelled towards her. I heard Meg scream for her mother and suddenly a dark blur appeared as if magically from the shadows and launched themselves at Madame.

The heavy wood that held the backdrops tight slammed into the back of Mme Giry's saviour, narrowly missing both their heads and a familiar grunt reached my ears.

Time sped up again as people crowded around Antoinette and the man who saved her. She was brushing off her skirts, and the man dressed in black laid very still on the stage. Feeling raced back into me, sending my heart and head swimming with icy terror. Air rushed into my lungs as I found my feet and screamed. "ERIK!"

**Erik**

I woke drowsily and Christine's face swam into view. "Erik? Can you hear me?" My head was in Christine's lap. "He's awake!" She called out to someone and when Meghan appeared I couldn't help jerking back, closer to Christine.

"You saved her, Erik." Meg's blue eyes shimmered gratefully and I glanced up to see Antoinette standing there looking to be hale and whole, if a little out of breath.

"Thank you, Monsieur Karan." Something softened in her voice and eyes and I was glad she was alright, even though she usually aggravated me to no end, that didn't mean I wanted her crushed under those backdrops.

I started to shrug in nonchalance but pain ripped through my neck and shoulder. Christine felt and heard my intake of breath.

"Are you injured?" Her brow furrowed in concern and I realized we were still in the wings of the stage.

"I am fine." I cradled my arm to my chest and tried to gain my feet, but found myself lightheaded and Christine had to catch me. She buckled under my weight and we fell in crumpled pile, my arm jarring painfully as pain shot down my back. Warm hands picked me up and Christine gave me away.

"He's hurt! He can't breathe!" She was full of panic and I hushed at her.

"I'm fine, dear. My arm is fine…there is some pain but…"

"Clearly a dislocation. You are carrying your arm." Mme Giry spoke with snappy surety, pointing at my makeshift sling and I could hardly believe I was regretting my heroism so soon.

"My arm is not dislocated."

"Of course it is. Look at your shoulder. I dislocated mine once. It must be put back into place quickly." She moved close and began touching my shoulder and I twitched away from her hands. Christine's palm on my back stopped me.

"Let her check your shoulder, Erik."

I looked past the three ladies before me, to the gawking eyes of the rest of the cast. I could hear whispers traveling quickly. Reyer was trying to gain their attention but it was a losing battle.

"Could we do this somewhere else?"

**Christine**

I hurried Erik, Meg and her mother into my room and once there Erik still tried to shrug off Mme Giry's hands as she helped him out of his jacket.

"Let her help you, Erik." I encouraged gently, touching his back through the fine black material of his shirt. He glanced down at me and his eyes smoldered with questions as Mme Giry took hold of his arm. While I was lost in his stormy gaze, he suddenly jerked hard and then turned with a roar.

"DAMN YOU, WOMAN!"

"It's back in place now." Madame brushed off her hands as if done with her chores.

"That…is true…" He conceded quickly, swinging his arm lightly. I ran my hands down Erik's arm and noticed he was standing straighter and I beamed a smile at Meg's mother.

"Just like that." I grinned and Mme Giry gave us a few instructions how to best care for Erik's injury. As they were leaving, I put my hand to the back of Erik's shirt and felt a warm wetness. Horror filled me as I looked closely at his black shirt. "Blood! You're bleeding!" My voice screeched at the size of the wet spot, and panic, which I'd been keeping back, finally set in. I could only watch as racing emotion coursed through me in fits of uncontrollable fear. Erik was rapidly bleeding to death and going to die. This was the end. His act of bravery would kill him. I couldn't breathe at the thought. What would I do without him?

Mme Giry and Meg circled around Erik, looking for the blood and when they found it, Madame reached for Erik's shirt. "How did you get cut? Your jacket and shirt are not ripped." Erik leapt away from her hands and tried to hide behind me, shoving me between them.

"I am fine! Tell them I'm fine. You will tend me. Tell them!" But I was no good to my husband. Spots were dancing in front of my eyes and I knew I was lacking air, but I couldn't make myself breathe. "Christine?" Erik's tongue twirled my name in a soothing, questioning purr and my eyes closed with bottomless rapture as constriction loosened and I was thinking clearly once more.

**Meg**

Maman did not notice how Christine instantly calmed after Erik spoke her name. I don't think even Erik realized because he was busy trying to stop Maman from removing his shirt. I expected Christine to be in some sort of hypnotic trance but she suddenly sprang into action. She cooed at Erik, trying to calm him enough to allow Maman to check him. Only check him. She would tend him. She would take care of him.

Her hands soothed him as if he was an animal and Erik did calm considerably under her touch. I was enthralled with how the two of them seemed so connected. Cameron and I were compatible, but Erik and Christine existed on another level of conscious, another level of communication.

She whispered at him very softly in another language, barely a murmur, and his eyes burned into hers, violent storms of his words unspoken. I knew he didn't want to reveal his scarred chest to my mother. I'd seen enough yesterday to know he was scarred and though I was curious about the long thin scar across his chest and through his nipple, he was more than likely self-conscious about it. Against all odds Christine managed to talk him out of his shirt. She peeled it off him and made him turn so Maman could see where he was bleeding.

As he turned, my eyes widened in horrified disbelief. The evidence of abuse on his back, both recent and old beneath the blood, made a hard knot form in my belly. Who would he ever allow to beat him?

**Erik**

The absolute silence in the room made me want to crawl into a hole and never leave. After agonizing seconds Antoinette patted my uninjured shoulder lightly. "The skin is badly torn. Christine, clean up the blood. I will come back with some gauze and paste."

"I do not require your witchy remedies, thank you." My voice burned with venom but it did not faze Antoinette.

She looked down her nose at me and I realized that my saving her had made her less afraid of me. Perhaps the abuse on my back also made her feel a surge of pity for me. "You will have to speak to your wife about that. I believe she is on my side, Monsieur." She dragged her daughter from the room, barely supressing a smile, and Meghan looked back at us with questioning eyes. Silence filled the air again and I found I had trouble meeting Christine's eyes.

"Sit down." She pushed me gently to her bed and I sat obediently. She cleaned my back with a soft cloth for a few moments and then rested her forehead against my spine.

"What were you doing here? I thought you were working?"

"I had to return to you. I left some important things unsaid."

Christine sighed and her arms wrapped around my waist. "You saved Mme Giry."

"Yes."

"She would have been crushed."

"I know." Christine took a few deep breaths and I could feel her relaxing against me, pressing her face to my bare back.

"And what about Joseph Buquet?" I was shocked for a moment by her forthright question, but I realized that my cowardice had brought on this moment.

"Not now."

"I have so many questions, Erik."

"Later." I couldn't answer her questions now, when Antoinette would be returning shortly. Once the grateful meddling woman was gone I would answer anything Christine asked.

"Swear you will tell me." She sounded a little angry and a little worried and I gathered my hands to cover hers.

"I swear it." My heart pounded so loudly I am sure she heard the echo through my back as I held her against me. I should have told her way before this.

Antoinette returned with a few items in her arms and minus her daughter. I was selfishly glad Meghan did not return. Christine would probably have liked her reassuring confidence at a time like this, but I wasn't entirely comfortable around her at the moment. Antoinette produced a jar of green gelatinous paste and I firmly refused. She looked to argue but then produced a corked vial from her pocket.

"If you won't take my healing remedy, at least take the gypsies. It's a concoction of herbs to improve mobility and stamina after an injury." The vial of condensed liquid looked far more appealing than the paste and I snatched it from her hands. It's bitter taste left a lot to be desired and as I handed back the vial she smirked at me.

I had time to frown before I recognized the taste in my mouth and felt the effects of the narcotic. "You…you drugged me?" My tongue slurred already and Christine clutched at me. "You WITChhhhsss…"

"Erik! What have you done to Erik…" Christine's angel voice faded and I struggled against the tide to remain conscious. I lost.

**Christine**

My mouth dropped open as Erik slumped heavily against me in a drug induced slumber and I turned unbelieving eyes to Meghan's mother.

"Now we can tend to him without all the hubbub." Mme Giry rolled Erik onto the bed in an ungainly pile and I tried to straighten out his limbs for him as she applied the odd smelling green paste to his back in copious amounts. She muttered something about how do you like it now but I could not quite hear her. My eyes were trained on Erik's masked face, to make sure he was breathing, and I made a mental note to remove the mask as soon as Meg's mother left. She wrapped him with thick strips of cloth while I held him up, and instructed me to apply the paste again tomorrow.

As she left, she asked if I would return to rehearsal and when I glanced at Erik, with the words no on my lips, she touched my hand, drawing away my attention. "Carlotta really is dreadful, dear. We'd all much rather have you as the lead. He will be fine."

I promised I would be there shortly. Erik was snuffling in his deep sleep and I sat beside him for a moment, brushing the hair from his forehead. I pried the mask off, so he would be comfortable, and noticed peeling skin on his sunken cheek. I leaned close, because I often did not study Erik's deformity, and took my fill of the warped and bruise coloured skin. It always looked as if the skin had been burned away with acid but there were uneven ravaged patches that I don't remember ever seeing before. I touched the skin gently, wondering if the glue from his rubber mask was hurting him. Tears pressed behind my lashes and I took large swallows of air to control my emotions. I had rehearsal and a performance to get through before I could ask Erik anything.

Not that my questions truly mattered. Nothing would make me leave Erik. At least, it was easy to tell myself this for now. Something had occurred between Erik and Joseph and I just needed to know what and why. I needed to know what happened. He would have a sound reason for disposing of Joseph Buquet. I had been hoping to find out, but since Erik was fast asleep I could only sit by and firmly lock my brain away. I did not want to imagine reasons and scenarios and get myself worked up. I would wait to hear from my husband's lips. How many times had he tried to tell me over the last days and I was unreceptive?

I left Erik to his dreams and held my head high at rehearsal. My husband was a sudden hero. Whispers regarding the Phantom Saviour could be heard everywhere, but people quieted when I floated by with my nose in the air. They were either staring in awe or hate, but I was untouched by it all. I had bigger issues.

After the show, I was passed from arm to arm, all the while wondering if Erik was still sleeping or if he would appear at any moment. Meg pointed out the inspector for me and I made sure to steer clear of him as I weeded my way closer to the hall. Just as I was attempting to leave, another hand fell on my elbow.

"Madame Karan?"

I turned politely and jerked away from Raoul DeChangy's hand.

**Raoul**

The first thing that struck me about Madame Karan was the fear in her large, pretty, golden eyes. It disappeared quickly and she greeted me with a lovely smile. I complimented her on her performance, though it seemed as if she was a little distracted tonight. Not that I myself wasn't distracted. After father passed away, I could often be found staring at nothing, with a wandering mind, unable to focus on anything in particular.

I was desperately sad that I never reconciled with my father before his death. I'd left his home without a word to him and then was miles away on a navy ship, for some reason I couldn't quite remember. It must have been a petty argument, nothing worth not speaking to him over, but I'd acted as a child and run away.

The thoughts still shamed me and I had trouble concentrating on Madame's polite question.

"Forgive me, what did you say?" I asked nicely and she gave me a curious look.

"I asked if you might remember meeting me before…at the masquerade?" Her pretty eyes reflected the light oddly, so it appeared she glowed from within, some sort of angelic being left here on earth. She did have a remarkable golden voice, able to carry sorrow and joy so easily through the music.

"I do not recall…" Her face seemed familiar, but I found many pretty girls pleasingly familiar. I'd heard she was in the corps before ascending to lead soprano, so it was possible I knew her from there. "Do forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive." She smiled and looked to be enjoying a private joke. "If you don't mind I really must be meeting my husband. He is waiting…"

"I do have a reason for accosting you." I smiled slightly and pulled out the letter father left for one, Christine Karan. I wondered how he was acquainted with the opera's new soprano, but father had always been supportive of the arts. "My father has passed on and…"

"Oh Raoul, I'm so sorry for you." She touched my arm gently, sorrow and sympathy filling her expressive face. "My own father recently passed as well. I didn't realize yours was so ill."

"Neither did I." I felt tears building and manfully swallowed them down. If she could control her grief then so could I. "He left this letter for you."

She took the envelope and turned it over in her hands to read her name, before looking back up at me. She looked very sympathetic to my inner pain and I gave her a brave smile, not wanting to shed any tears in front of such a pretty lady, even if she was married. "I shan't keep you a moment longer from your husband. Good evening, Madame." I bowed to her and she quickly left, hurrying down the hall. As she disappeared around a corner I realized she'd called me by my Christian name, as if we were close, and she spoke of meeting at the masquerade. I remembered attending the masquerade but Madame Karan's face was absent from my memories. Why could I not remember this pretty woman with such expressive eyes?

**Erik**

I woke groggily, my mouth, sticky and dry. My lids were still heavy though I felt wide awake. I rolled onto my back and felt something all over my back squish inside my clothing. I pushed myself up gingerly and surveyed Christine's room. My bloodied shirt was on her chair and I looked down at my bandaged chest.

The last I remembered was drinking that vial of herbs…from that evil witch of a woman!

"You were better off crushed," I growled to myself as I rose from the tiny bed. My shoulder was aching and I stood before Christine's mirror and looked over the bandages expertly wrapped around my torso. I figured the squishy feeling was that damn paste Antoinette had produced. I could hardly wait until I could wash it off. She must have slathered my entire back! I shuddered with unease and then surveyed the room.

Christine's dress from earlier was draped on the dressing screen but the room was void of any recent sign of her. I felt a pang of betrayal, knowing she didn't wait for me to wake. She just allows Antoinette to drug me and then leaves me sleeping? I checked the time and calculated Christine may be on stage taking her final bow.

Though part of me wanted her to be at my side every moment, I was glad she felt independent enough to go on with the show. She was a true performer if she could act and sing and not be thinking of her husband's recent sin.

I was on edge and began pacing her room, picking up my mask and pushing it brutally onto my face. Too much was going on. I was going to collapse into frequent seizures if I did not take better care...

Christine burst into the room as if she had run the entire way from the stage. She gasped when she saw me standing and then staggered towards me, throwing aside her gloves and tiara without care. I caught her in my arms and my shoulder seared with pain.

"Erik…" Her sweet voice trembled on a fine edge. "There is too much happening at once." She echoed my exact thoughts and I held her tightly.

"Let us go straight home." I thought she would be in agreement but she grabbed my shirt.

"NO!" She looked over her shoulder as if to make sure the door was firmly closed. "I saw the inspector at the end of the performance. Let us stay down below tonight. I don't want to chance speaking to him until I've spoken to you."

Her reasons were sound but my insecurities whispered that she did not wish to be at 'home' with me. I was a murderer and she did not want to be my wife…

"How do you feel, love?" She cupped my face adoringly and her golden eyes were wrought with emotion. She was near tears and I pulled her against my chest.

"I am fine." I sighed and told the absolute truth. "With you next to me, I am always one hundred times better." She snuggled in.

"Tell me how it happened." She asked and there was no question as to what she was asking me.

"I'm not entirely sure." I was suddenly unsure as to what to say. I'd been so blinded by other worries that I hadn't exactly planned what to say to her. "Things get hazy."

"I'm sure what you remember will be enough." She encouraged with a caress.

"He was yards away one second and then I was standing over his dead body."

"You…you killed him?" I could feel her face trembling.

"Yes."

"But…how…?" I thought she might be trying to ask how I did the awful deed, and in an effort to be helpful, I supplied the answer before she'd formed her question.

"I snapped his neck."

Her hands clutched at me and a sob escaped her mouth.

"No." She gasped and burst into tears. She cried, pressing her face to my chest and leaking tears into the strips of fabric. I did not know what to say and luckily she only cried for a minute. "I meant…" she paused to take a breath. "How did it happen? What did he do?"

I opened my mouth and again did not know what to say. Tell her the exact truth and frighten her, or lie to ease things?

"Nothing." I was only going to give one word answers from now on. They were safe and elusive.

"Please tell me, Erik?" Christine pushed back, her face a poetry of love and anguish.

"No."

"Please, Erik!" She clutched at my arms, with desperation rising in her eyes. "I must know. I know you had a reason."

The unforgettable image of his arm pumping quickly back and forth burned through my memory and I shuddered and pushed away from her to pace her room.

"It changes nothing!" I was quickly becoming angry which was not the way to do this. I tried to breathe but pain blossomed in my shoulder and radiated down my back.

"You had a reason. I know you did. Was he threatening you? Did he threaten me? What did he do?"

I spun around wildly, feeling slightly off balance, unable to believe her words. "So I am given permission to murder as long as my victim has threatened us?"

"Stop!" She held her hands up as if in prayer, as she pleaded with me, her golden eyes brimmed with tears. "Please tell me."

"My reason changes nothing." I was subdued once more. The pain had receded to a dull throb which was easy to ignore.

"You must tell me why?" Her panic seemed to rise as mine ebbed and disappeared. My reasons changed nothing and she did not need to be burdened with Joseph's final act.

"No." I was stone cold.

"WHY?" She screamed in my face as she fisted her hands and stomped her foot.

"You do not wish to know." I replied calmly and thought of coaxing her with my voice. My mind detached to imagine the possibility of making Christine forget about Buquet, and then immediately I was appalled at the thought. She advanced on me with a fire in her eyes.

"YES I DO! I wish to know." She approached me and I stood my ground. "Tell me NOW! You cannot keep me in the dark. I must know WHY!"

"IT CHANGES NOTHING! You do not need to know!" I finally yelled. "You are still mine." I lowered my voice and pulled her against me. It was my turn to clutch her greedily and I hoped she could breathe with how tightly I was holding her. "I will not let you go." My words seemed to calm her and we embraced for a quiet minute until there was timid knocking on her door.

"Madame Karan?" A concerned male voice called out and I reacted quickly. I grabbed Christine's cloak from the closet and whisked it over her shoulders. The mirror silently slid away for us and I ushered her into the dark tunnel. My heart clenched at the memories in this place and I took her roughly by the arm, pushing her towards the lantern. I lit the thing and still continued pushing her along until we were well past the area of unrest.

"Who the devil was that?" I hissed as I led her quickly through the tunnels.

"I…I don't know." She whispered back and casually glanced over her shoulder as if the man at her door would follow us through the hidden mirror and down into the bowels of the opera. I watched as her eyes came back to me and I couldn't help scowling. Did she want to be saved by some faceless man at her door?

**Christine**

I clung to Erik's hand as we walked down into the depths of the opera house. A chill crept over me even though I was wrapped tightly in my cloak. Who was at my door? Was it the inspector? Did he hear us arguing? It also could have been Raoul if he followed me down the hall, and the thought of his red rimmed eyes and sad face made me miss papa all over again. I knew how much it hurt to lose your last remaining parent, and he looked to be experiencing all the grief involved, just as I had.

I realized I hadn't even read the letter from Monsieur DeChangy. In my rush to Erik's arms I'd thrown everything to the ground…

I tripped on the lacy seam of my costume dress and tried to pick up the hem. It was not made for such vigorous dirty travel and I knew I would have to make some excuse up for the seamstress. I hated being dishonest but I had no other choice. The truth was not an option.

The thought that I had been staving off for the better part of the day swam to the forefront of my mind in full vibrant detail.

Erik killed Joseph Buquet.

I had known as soon as the rumour touched my ear that it was true. Nothing else would have transformed my loving husband into, first, a man I did not know and then a cold phantom of the man he was. Erik was a very dangerous man and though I loved him beyond reason, he also frightened me. How was I to react to this sort of news? I was horrified, upset, and disappointed, but I knew if I did not cleave myself entirely to Erik, and quickly, that he might take it the wrong way. Nothing could ever sever our bond, so it just made sense to get over my fears, to give up my fears. The only problem was Erik. He was currently making it difficult for me to be forgiving when he was half dragging me through the dark tunnels.

My feet stumbled again and Erik's hand tightened over mine. I couldn't decide if he was being helpful or trying to restrain me. He kept glancing back at me as if checking to see where I was, though my hand was glued to his. I felt like asking where he thought I was going, or could go.

My fingers throbbed and I realized, I too, was gripping Erik's hand a little too tightly. My nails were digging into his flesh and yet, I could not loosen my hold. I was afraid that if I let go, then my Erik would disappear and one of the other Eriks would come to take his place. It was completely ridiculous because even now as we walked in silence he could be morphing into another version of himself. His step was forceful and fast and I was staggering and almost running in my billowing skirts just to keep up to him. I wanted to shout at him to slow down, but my throat was tight with unshed tears.

Erik killed Joseph Buquet.

The tunnel pulsed with the light from our lantern, but Erik's body blocked most of the glow from reaching me, as if he was absorbing the light into the greater darkness inside of him. I felt like I was being dragged unwillingly into an abyss of darkness. Why did I choose to come here instead of our light, airy, love filled house?

As we drew closer and closer to his subterranean home and further from the light above, I panicked. Light and dark. Heaven and hell. The two sides of his face. He killed a man. I shook the thoughts from my head.

His complete overwhelming silence drove me to speak his name. The iron grip, grinding my bones together, did not change. The utter bleakness and darkness enveloping him, and therefore me, in a cloying cloak of silence was beginning to frighten me quite a lot. This was no longer Erik.

"Erik?" My voice vibrated loudly off the tunnel, wanting to shake him back to himself, and the lantern and white mask turned to glance back with cold indifference. I needed to pull him from the darkness. "Can we go home instead? I love the house you built for us." I leaned towards him, intent that he see how much I wanted to leave here.

He blinked once in surprise. "We are already here." He turned back and pulled me along and any argument died in my throat. We were already here in the darkness.

I remembered the last thing Erik said in my room, telling me he would not allow me to leave him. I could barely believe that Erik still questioned my commitment to him. He honestly thought I would want to part with him and leave my husband's side? He did not understand our love and it hurt me to be continuously slapped in the face with his insecurity. Is that why he felt in necessary to drag me away? Did he think I would fight him?

I knew it was childish, knew I should not provoke my fragile Erik, but I pulled back on his hand with all my strength and the words I wanted to speak all day pushed up my throat, past the harsh burn of tears.

"Why did you kill Joseph Buquet?" My whisper sounded deafening in the dark, confined tunnel and the shadowy, masked specter before me came to a stop.


	71. Knowledge

**Erik**

Why did you kill Joseph Buquet? The words echoed around us in her sweet, melodic, trembling timbre. I slowly put the lantern down. If she wanted answers here then I would give them here, but I also needed to be able to grab her quickly if she didn't like what I had to say.

This brought me abruptly to my current issue. I didn't have a simple polite answer for her question and instead tried to divert her. "My reason does not matter. He is dead." The tunnel vibrated with a soft echo of our words. "You are my wife. You are the only person to know the truth. Let us keep it that way."

"But I must know." She spoke firmly. "I know you would have a reason. You must have had a good reason. You did not…kill him for…pleasure." She was frowning at me and I frowned right back.

"I had no good reason to end his life."

"Don't lie to me, Erik." She stepped forward and put her arms around me. "Just tell me." Her devotion to me would not allow her to believe me and I was angry at her blind adoration. I took her by the arms and held her away from me to glare at her properly.

"The man did nothing. I killed him and faked his suicide."

"He poisoned me once. He must have been plotting something worse…"

"Stop." I pulled away and paced from her. "I killed him because I did not want him to ever look at you again! That is the reason."

She digested my words and confusion clouded her face. "Look at me? But hundreds of people look at me when I'm on stage singing! Are you going to...to…"

She didn't have to finish her sentence. I knew where her thoughts had gone. Would I kill every person that looked at her? Shame and disgust were filling my heart and I gestured erratically. "It was just HIM! I didn't want HIM looking at you ever again!" She could not understand without the main crux of my reason and I was remembering exactly how I felt when I saw Joseph staring at Christine. Like all of my life force turned black with rage and I rode that wave of anger to his side to end his pitiful existence. She wanted an answer and in dredging up the memory, I was reduced to short, angry sentences. "He was behind your mirror. He was standing there, so close to you." My fists clenched. "He was watching you. Staring at MY angel." I pounded a fist to my chest to dull the ache. "At MY wife." I glared at her, angry that she so easily controlled me. I had not wanted her to know this, she did not need to know. I should have thought of something more innocuous to tell her.

"He was spying on me?" I could tell the blood had left her face. She appeared to be a ghostly apparition of herself, her rosy cheeks gone, her hands wrung together. "Surely the police could have…"

"He was pleasuring himself!" I watched her face register the thought as if being slapped, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to understand why I submitted to such darkness? I would make her understand. "He was moaning at your splendour." My hand inadvertently swept through the air in the curve of her body. "He was fucking you in his mind!" I tried to take a breath, as her face warped into disgust, but my lungs had seized as I fully realized my own completely selfish reason for killing Joseph. I could claim it was to protect Christine but I truly wanted the man dead. I could only gasp the last few words as I relived that horrible black moment. "He had to die. You…are Mine."

The word mine echoed with finality and then silence suffocated me. The tunnels felt significantly more claustrophobic than ever before. They were shrinking down, swallowing me into the darkness, dragging me down into hell. Then my angel began to cry.

I stared at her and tried to gain control over my hitched breathing. She was radiant even in her grief. The lantern cast her into a romantic light, her hair forming a halo of golden strands, and she glowed, even five levels below the ground. Each movement she made was graceful, her sobs like musical notes bouncing around us, as tears trailed like tiny stars down her smooth cheeks. I drank in her image, not even blinking so as not to miss a split second of my exquisite, unearthly wife. She covered her face and her shoulders rounded as her back wracked with delicate heart wrenching sobs.

This is what I did to my angel.

Is this what I would always do?

Bile climbed up my throat and I fell to my knees before her. My mouth opened as I reached out, but fear of rejection had me collapsing back into a pathetic lump. I should have told her better. I could have been gentler, wiser. Though she now knew it all, it changed nothing. She was mine and would stay mine, even if she hated me. We were far too connected for me to even fathom living without her now, and I felt a small stir of confidence that she would feel the same way. She acknowledged that we belonged together, she was my wife, she was still here, but I worried she would piece together the rest of that next morning. Could she handle knowing I'd thoughtlessly killed, and then used her in a fiery rush of lust and darkness that consumed me? I watched her closely and did not think she'd even thought that far yet.

"I told you I was evil." I choked on the bitter words as they burned my tongue. I warned her. She should have listened to me. I was as evil as the demon who raped my mother. Killing that scum meant nothing to me. Even saying I was sorry would ring untrue.

She collapsed to her knees in front of me, heedless of the dirty tunnel, and took my masked face in her hands. "Don't say that! I'll never believe that." Her light filled eyes embalmed me and I stared at her wet face in shock and wonder. "I'm still glad he's dead." She whispered with a small broken voice and then she threw herself against me and held on for dear life.

I had to be dreaming, but I wanted to hallucinate for a moment. I held my wife tight and shushed at her and trailed my hand over her curly hair again and again. She accepted comfort from my murdering hands and I was awed by her once more. She still…STILL loved me?

I would wake and find I had passed out. I had a seizure in the tunnel on the way to find her. I was sleeping and we have not even woken for the day yet. I would love to have this morning back…

She pulled away and studied me, finally finding the courage to speak. "Will you come to church with me?"

I frowned and bit back many responses. "What for? Confession?"

"NO! No." She shook her head quickly. "I only thought you should ask forgiveness in the lord's house."

I wanted to say no, but she gazed at me with loving hope and boundless faith, burning in her golden eyes, and I submitted. She would remain mine and I would do as my angel bid.

**Christine**

The knowledge of what Joseph had done to deserve his death was making me feel sick. I should not have asked. The knowledge made no difference. To know he watched me unaware made me want to look over my shoulder at every moment. To think of how many times I was polite to that disgusting man.

Erik was gentler with me for the remainder of our journey down. I seemed to have pulled him from consuming darkness just in time. His hand cupped mine with protective strength, leading me onward, instead of the steel grip dragging me into the depths of darkness. He said he would come with me to church and that was enough for me to forgive him. The lord would forgive him and I, his wife, would forgive him and it would never be mentioned again. People could go on thinking Joseph killed himself. There was no need for Erik to come out and admit to murder. No good would come of that.

As we entered the underground home, Erik helped me hang my cloak and I noticed the careful avoidance of his fingers brushing any part of me. I turned to him, ready to confront him on pulling away from me, but he beat me to speech.

"Are you hungry?" His voice was gruff and I shook my head quickly. "Would you like a drink?" He pressed.

"No, thank you."

"Have you eaten anything this evening? Shall I start a bath for you? Would you like to change? Damn…" I watched him look down at my dress and come to the same conclusion as I already had.

"I'll tell her I had to chase after a carriage."

"I should have let you change." He looked upset and I didn't want him to feel bad about anything, let alone something as trivial as my dress.

"There was no time." I made his excuse for him, but it only reminded him of why we made a hasty exit.

"Who was that man?" His brow furrowed and I shrugged.

"I don't know."

"It did not sound like the inspector…" Erik was mulling over the voice and I did not want him to realize who it was. If Erik knew I had spoken to Raoul and tested his hypnotic suggestions, he would not be pleased with me.

"I think I will make some tea. Would you like some tea?" I tried to distract him.

"I can make it for you." Erik sprang into action. "You should change."

I hesitated because I had completely played Erik like a fiddle. I felt awful. I wanted to stay at Erik's side lest he be attacked again by the darkness inside him. I wanted to argue that Erik should be lying down after his injury today, but I also wanted a moment to collect myself and change from the costume.

Erik killed Joseph Buquet and it did not matter. Our lives still went on.

I was married to this enigma of a man, this gentle, gothically beautiful man, scarred by life and demons, who could kill and who could love so completely. I was intricately attached to him in so many ways, that I could never comprehend being without him. He was my Erik, my other half, my everything. What did that mean about me?

I was happy when I heard Joseph was dead, even when I discovered he'd died at Erik's hands. Especially when I'd discovered how he'd died! Fierce gladness had roared through me that he was dead, by my husband's doing, by my sworn protector. The lecher could never look at me again. But the joy I felt only added to the sick feeling in my stomach. I kept telling Erik he was not evil, but perhaps he was, just a little bit, and perhaps I was evil too.

I rushed to the bathroom as nausea swept over me. What sort of genuinely good person would feel happy over anyone's demise? What sort of person thrilled at unnecessary death? Who was this person inside me thinking these things?

Perhaps I had never been truly good. More naïve than anything else. I splashed water on my clammy face. I felt physically ill and could only directly correlate it to the dark deeds of my husband. I washed the stage make up from my face as my thoughts spun endlessly. Cameron had mentioned the inspector and part of me even wondered if Cameron himself had been trying to pry information from me with his ease and charm. Raoul had looked torn apart tonight, displaying a side of him that I'd never seen before. He had seemed like any normal, caring person, even though I had an idea it was only because Erik had changed him. Could people so easily be changed? Was Erik's hypnotic talent truly more evil than ambivalent?

Perhaps good and evil were interwoven intricately into everyone's souls, and no one person was truly either. Perhaps there was a dark Christine hiding inside me to match Erik's dark side. I did, after all, enjoy my husband's darker side.

My face flamed with the memory and I glanced at the bathtub. It would feel so good to sink into a tub full of hot water, but I didn't want Erik to have to set it up. He should be resting and I should be taking care of him. His back was torn open and his shoulder recently disengaged from his body.

Joseph Buquet was dead and nothing could change that fact. I loved Erik. Nothing could change that either. Erik needed me to be strong.

I took a few deep breaths and met Erik in the kitchen, intending to take over. I watched him slicing a lemon and my throat clenched at the thought of his beautiful, long, capable hands snapping a man's neck with equal capability. He could see me, I was sure, but he continued to silently slice far more lemon then we would need. I pressed my lips together, knowing this would not be easy, and moved close enough to touch his arm.

"Did you want to bathe?" I asked with a careful caress.

"Yes." He exhaled with a puff. "The paste on my back feels disgusting."

"She wanted me to apply more tomorrow." I warned.

"No, thank you." He grumbled under his breath, and I felt love for him press out into my chest, up into my throat. It burned through my body painfully, searching for a release.

"I love you." I clung to his arm with trembling hands and he put down the knife and braced his hands on the counter.

"Love," he breathed the word with distant eyes. "Such a small, insignificant word to encompass such large, overwhelming emotion." He stared at the slices of lemon and I patiently waited for him to continue. "It can't just be love that has brought us together. You fill a void within me, a void that has been there my whole life. I am drawn to you with an ever growing, gnawing hunger in the center of my chest. My life spent in darkness, to be finally held by your light...Now, I cannot even imagine a life without you in it. You are my world, I would gladly drown in you forever and never come up for air, and yet…" I didn't want him to continue anymore.

"You are _my_ world." I tried to distract him but he was not listening.

"…yet I wish you would not touch me. I am not deserving of this…" he had to swallow. "…The perfect feel of your fingers upon me."

His request only had me curling my so called perfect fingers into his shirt sleeve. "But doesn't it feel good to be connected to each other." I whispered as if sharing a secret. "Is it not comforting to feel me so close?" His arm was iron beneath my hands as a tremor passed through him.

"Of course it feels good. It always feels good and that's why…why you shouldn't. I don't deserve anything good, especially your touch. At least punish me for a week, or a month. However long you deem."

"You want me to punish you?" I was imagining a whip in my hands and Erik cowed before me.

"YES!" It exploded from him, almost as a sob and I cupped his face, trying to coax him to look at me. His eyes flickered over my face and then dropped. He would not look at me, but he allowed me to turn him.

"I will not punish you." I whispered fiercely. "You deserve to be loved just as anyone else."

Erik did not say anything, but he squirmed. "I need to wash," he mumbled.

I had been hoping for a better response but I nodded and allowed him to leave the kitchen. I clung to the counter and took deep steadying breaths. I remembered when I first broke down Erik's walls and always feeling like my moments with him were the most energizing, tantalizing, dizzyingly breathtaking experiences. This felt the very same. My senses were heightened, my thoughts scattered, my breath catching. Though I was married to him and knew him more intimately than any other, I still did not know what to expect next.

At least he was speaking to me. He was still my Erik.

**Erik**

I stood beneath the shower and let it pierce me with its chill. My shoulder and back were aching and I knew I should sling the arm to take some strain off but I did not want to appear so weak and fragile when it was Christine who should be weak and fragile. I confess to murder and all she asks is for me to step into a building and silently ask forgiveness? It was too easy. It was not enough. I wanted her to demand something harder. She was too good for me, but it was far too late to be worrying about that. Christine was my pillar of strength to lean upon, and it chaffed that she could be so strong while I felt the need to fall apart.

How could she be so forgiving, so angelic, so perfect and loving and wise?

My Christine…

I turned my face into the water's spray and let my tears masquerade as water down my face.

I emerged feeling better. The gunk was gone from my back and I carefully pulled on some pants, leaving off my shirt so Christine could look at the fresh wound on my back. By the amount of blood on the towel I was not too concerned, but I knew Christine would want to make sure I was alright. She was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames with intensity.

She looked up as I approached and the fiery light in her eyes made me want to sweep her into my arms and promise her anything. "Feel better?" She smiled and I nodded. I tossed my sweater onto the couch and she stood, as if knowing what I was going to say.

"Will you check my back?" Her hands alighted on my waist and the warmth of her touch shot through me.

"Your skin is freezing, Erik! How can you stand such cold water?" I had a few answers but I knew none of them would continue to make Christine smile. Truth was, cold water made the blood slow down. The wound would stop seeping sooner than with warm or hot water. "The cut looks alright…" She trailed off as her hands ran down the length of my back. "Actually, all of the marks look better, less red."

"Damn." I didn't want Antoinette's cure to work. I wanted it to fail dramatically, but I imagined that Christine would now coax me to apply it tomorrow as well. "So the witch's remedy works." I grumbled as I reached for my sweater.

"Wait Erik. Don't put on your jacket. We need to sling your arm." She produced a folded kitchen towel and I shook my head.

"I do not want to." I sounded like a stubborn child.

"Your arm was dislocated today, the joint will be weak, and it needs to be put in a sling."

"I do not want one."

"Erik…" She tilted her head at me and fixed me with her golden gaze and I felt like squirming under the strength in her eyes. "I do not want you to have any lingering effects of the accident. You should see the multi-coloured bruise on your back. I'm surprised the wood didn't go right through you! Now, you are going to allow me to sling your arm and that is final."

She had never spoken to me with such firm commands, and I sat and allowed her to wrap my arm in the confines of the towel and drape it around my neck. I was now sitting with no shirt on and a kitchen towel about my arm and I felt anything but strong and manly. She lovingly placed my sweater jacket around my shoulders as if I was an old woman and then she stirred my tea for me and handed me my cup.

I did not want to complain about being taken care of, but it felt wrong. I should be hiding in my room, licking my wounds until I felt strong enough to face her. Right now I felt like an odd mix between her elderly father and her naughty child.

"Everyone was very impressed with you today." She sipped her tea gently, not looking up from her lap. "I heard the words 'masked saviour' more than once."

I did not know how to respond and instead just grunted.

"Mme Giry may not have said as much, but she will be eternally grateful to you. She cried when Meg hugged her."

"She did not seem eternally grateful when she drugged me." I was in a foul mood. I did not want Christine to accept what I had done. I wanted her to cry and lament and shoo me away from her. Lock herself in her room and sob for what was lost. It's what she should be doing and instead she was sitting nicely with me, caring for me and reaching over to touch my leg, accepting me.

"I am sorry I could not stop her. I didn't know what she planned. And I'm sorry I did not sit by your side the whole time, I needed to…"

"You needed to perform, I know." I was suddenly achingly tired, but I took a deep breath and sat up straighter. Now was not the time for weakness.

"But I should have stayed at your side. Forgive me, darling." She was asking ME to forgive HER?

I gritted my teeth together and stared at the leaping flames of the fire. Of all the ridiculous things for her to say. She was asking my forgiveness for something so small it didn't even need to be brought up. She probably had felt guilty the entire night for leaving my side, so deep was her goodness. My angel wife touched my leg again and I met her gaze feeling entirely unworthy.

"Erik?" She looked to be concerned by my silence and I cleared my throat so I wouldn't snarl at my angel.

"Yes?" She stared at me, flicking her eyes over my masked face.

"I want to ask you something." Her hand swept my thigh up and down, before retreating to her tea cup. I coughed to hide my shifting on the couch and prodded her to continue. "It's more of a request really." She stared into her cup and I made an encouraging noise. "I shouldn't say this. I don't have to say this. I know I don't have to say this…"

"Christine?"

"I want a promise."

"A promise?"

"I understand why Buquet is…dead, but promise me you won't ever resort to…such lengths again."

I wasn't entirely sure I could keep such a promise. The black rage had swelled within me and made snapping his neck the only option, the best option. Every other option rankled as weak and unfitting punishment. I had to say something. "I swear to you that I will try, but do you understand that I wasn't in full control of myself?"

She did not look up and instead blushed brilliantly. She nodded and sipped at her tea as if she understood, but she voiced a soft question down into her cup. "At only that moment…or through till the morning?"

My breath rasped oddly through my nose. "Mostly at that moment." I knew she was alluding to our encounter and though I remembered pieces of it, she knew more than I did. I waited for her to comment, question, or reprimand me. Now was her chance.

She only peeked up at me, and the girlish flutter of her lashes caught my attention. "Oh." She was darkly blushing now and I was having a hard time concentrating because fleeting images of her bloody back and our brutal mating were filtering past my eyes. If she knew the truth. If she knew how much I enjoyed her that morning…

"I will try to contain my urge to murder innocent people." I meant for it to come out bland but the void of emotions spoke more loudly than any true feeling.

"Erik." Her hand pressed to my thigh. "I should not have said anything. I know you did not seek to kill anyone. Please forgive me."

"Stop asking ME to forgive YOU!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Christine." I growled at her. I heard the furious sound come out of my throat and we both froze. Her eyes widened, but even as I thought I was scaring her away, she shifted closer to clutch my arm.

"Don't be angry, Erik. Please…" Large tears welled in her golden eyes, spilling delicately down her cheeks in two perfect lines.

"I am not angry." I spoke after a calming breath, but I suddenly wanted to run away from her and hide in my room. "I am not feeling well. Perhaps I should retire."

"Are you coming down with a cold? Don't think I didn't notice you coughing." Christine was fully engaged in her mothering role and put down her tea to swipe at her wet cheeks and check me over. She pressed her hand to my cheek and forehead while I protested that I was fine and only tired, sore, bruised, drugged and disgusted with myself.

"I bet it's that cold shower. It can't be good for you, Erik. Here let me add some honey to your tea."

"I do not want any." I truly was like a grumpy child.

"It is good for you. My singing instructor said it can help soothe the throat." She smiled at her joke.

"I do not like honey." She was already bringing the spoon to my cup.

"What? How can you not like honey?" She thought I was joking.

"I don't like the taste." I tried to move my cup away, across my sling, and bumped her elbow. The spoon slipped from her fingers and bounced off my chest, into my lap.

I was staring down at the ooze of honey on my pants and missed Christine's finger reach out to dab up the honey from my chest. She dragged her finger down through the honey and then popped it in her mouth, innocent as a child. I couldn't help watching her suck on her finger to remove all traces of the sweet gooey mess. She finally noticed the spoon stuck to my pants and exclaimed.

"Oh no! What a mess! I'm so sorry, Erik. Let me help clean it up." She began by trying to scoop up some of the honey with the spoon and her fingers, but she was brushing against my groin and I shifted awkwardly.

"It's fine. I can go change."

"I'm so clumsy." She continued to scoop at my crotch and I tried to keep myself relaxed and shift out of her reach, but one part of my body began to rise in excitement. "How can you not…like…honey?" She managed to finish her question but she had also noticed the state of my growing anatomy.

My face burned with embarrassment as I opened my mouth to tell her that this reaction was strictly anatomical. I obviously did not expect to lay with her at this moment, but before I could form the words she leaned forward and licked my chest. One long, slow, wet slide that sent my body and mind into shock.

"I like honey." She whispered against my skin and then lapped at the smear of honey on my chest with soft, warm flicks of her tongue. My whole body tingled with pleasure and I bit back a moan. My Christine. She really was forever my Christine. My temptation, my goddess, my angel, my muse, my vixen, my undoing…

**Christine**

My hands were covered in sticky honey so I kept them away from touching him, but I helpfully cleaned the honey from his chest and paused to lick my lips. Was it possible he tasted better than the honey? The cold, smooth slide of his skin on my tongue sent shivers through me, but Erik was extremely tense. I made myself stop and sit away from him, unnerved by his obvious unease. He usually would have enjoyed my playfulness, especially since I just clumsily touched him in just the right way, but I had to remind myself that Erik had just confessed murder to me. He did not want me to touch him. He did not want me to take care of him. He would not want to be intimate. How could I have been so stupid?

I stared down at my clumsy gooey fingers, not knowing what to do. I arouse him and then I lick him and he sits stiff and silent. Why could he not at least kiss me and hold me and promise me a million things, even if none of them were true?

My face began burning at my behaviour. But why should I hold back and treat him differently? I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He is still my husband, my lover. I still love him, no matter that he has killed, and he still loves me, no matter that he has…

His eyes flicked over to mine and stopped all thought. The grey of his eyes swirled with all the intensity of a storm and was at odds with the stillness in the rest of him. He seemed to be fighting with himself as he stared at me, with a growing, scowling darkness. To stave off any more negative arguments from his mouth I touched his lips with my fingers, only recalling the honey when it was too late. His face registered disgust and I had never known he hated honey so much. What else was there about him that I did not know, that I had never taken the time to know?

"Oh dear me." I felt bad and leaned close. "I can clean that for you as well?" My whispered words got lost as I closed my lips over his and sucked. His mouth was stiff with surprise, but pliable as he allowed my tongue to trace over his lips and into his mouth. He did not kiss me back. His slack honeyed mouth was mine for the taking and I licked at his lips for perhaps longer than necessary. The mask was slightly in my way but it did not deter me from removing every touch of honey I found. I was trying my hardest to convey my love and support through physical touch, but Erik seemed set against any affection from me. It was possible he didn't feel ready yet. He did confess to me in the kitchen that he did not wish for my good touch. How could I explain to him that I was not the good girl he thought I was? Would he even still love me if he knew?

"All clean." I sat back and started wiping my fingers on my napkin, determined not to look at him. He had never so completely rejected me and I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. Suddenly from the corner of my eye, I saw Erik tip back his teacup and drain it in one long swallow. He bent to roll his cup to the ground, and then he grabbed me.

I yelped in surprise as he hauled me into his lap and crushed his determined, tea stained lips on mine, and then the world melted away. There was some sort of magic in his touch, his hard uncompromising touch. He wanted me, he would have me. I couldn't explain the way his roughness made me melt. My only thoughts involved full and complete submission to his cold hands and warm mouth. I shifted against him, wanting to be closer, and his mask rubbed my face. The pleasurable and painful burn of it only further assured me that I had never been a good girl and could not change myself, would not change myself. Perhaps Erik could not change himself either. We were both born this way, born for each other…

He broke away from my mouth and a noise of utter disgust left him. My face heated at his reaction to my wantonness, and looking for a distraction, I realized he was clutching my upper arms tightly with both his hands.

"Your arm! You are not to use it, Erik…"

"It feels fine." He murmured against my cheek, his grip loosening and dropping away. I wiggled uncomfortably, perched on his lap.

"Humour me and please try to let your arm rest." I snuggled my nose to his bare cheek and his one arm came up to pull me closer. "I am trying to take care of you." I whined softly into his neck.

"I know." We fell silent and just enjoyed the peace of being so close. I was afraid to say anything more. I did not want to upset him or the delicate balance of emotions we were both channelling. Things could change in a blink of an eye. We had to hold fast to each moment of happiness.

"Christine…" He stroked my hair. "I know I told you not to touch me, but perhaps…I was wrong. When we touch…" He trailed off and I understood him before he even finished his sentence. "Nothing else matters…"

My heart swelled as I spoke softly, touching his naked chest with trembling fingers. "I know."

We remained in silence for a few blissful minutes. I listened to the beat of his heart and the music of his body and lulled myself into thinking that there would be no repercussions to any of Erik's actions. Everything would work itself out. Taking him to church would close this circle and once he was forgiven we would put this behind us and move on. My mind kept spinning on recent events. Meghan's wide eyed confessions. Joseph's lascivious gaze. Cameron's chocolate concern. Raoul's burdened sorrow. Erik's stormy possession.

When Erik finally sighed with weariness and pulled back, I was half drugged with sleep.

"Let us retire." His voice chilled me awake and as he helped me up, I forgot why he should not. He ushered me towards my room, but I stopped moving my feet forward and stubbornly turned to his bedroom. He breathed my name in frustration and I began shedding my wrapper.

"My place is at your side." I reasoned sleepily and he did not comment. I stood at my end of his bed and pulled back the blankets. He watched me slide into bed. He watched me lay down. He only stood and watched me though he had mentioned going to bed in the first place. I realized he had fully expected me to go to my room alone.

The dim, flickering light played off the smooth side of his face, casting the white mask into darkness, but both sides were equally still and blank as he stared at me. "Lay down, Erik." My voice rang with a command I hadn't meant to unleash, but he complied.

We lay like strangers in our bed and I hated the feeling. I would have preferred sleeping on the couch if it meant he held me. I scooted closer and draped my arm over his stomach. He tensed and I stroked at his arm.

I wanted to ask what was wrong, but I knew.

Erik was folding himself away from me. He was trying to hold his emotions in check. He did not want to share with me how he was feeling, and when we touched, it made it harder for him to hold back his feelings, but hold back he was. He did not want to lay next to me, and in a way, he was succeeding in no longer laying next to me. This man I held was only a ghost of my husband.

**Nadir**

My evening reading was interrupted by determined knocking on the front door. I allowed Berou to show the guest in and prepared myself for a visitor. I was curious to see who had come over since I was not expecting anyone, but the stocky looking, middle aged man was no one I had ever met and I stood to shake his hand.

"Monsieur Karan?" His blue eyes were kind, but sharp, with a familiarity that I at once recognized.

"Good evening." I nodded slightly at the police officer.

"I am Inspector Marceaux Voisard. May I ask you a few questions?" My poor old heart lurched in my chest and I nodded again.

"Why don't we sit down?" My mind was furiously spinning as to what brought this man to my house and I instantly thought of Erik. "Would you care for a drink? Tea? Something stronger?"

"No, thank you. I don't want to take up too much of your time. I wished to ask you if you are in contact with your son? One, Erik Karan?" He pulled out a small notebook and my stomach turned.

"Of course." My face was polite, open and friendly, but I was transformed once more into the perfectly protected court officer. Marceaux Voisard would get nothing from my face.

"He is married to one Christine Daae?"

"Christine Karan now. They are very recently married actually."

"I see." He made a note and I knew he wanted to speak to Erik and Christine about some investigation. That is what brought this officer of the law to my door. My mind touched on what Mlle Giry had revealed of a sceneshifter's suicide and I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Do you know where I can find your son? I've previously spoken to him at the opera, but he was not there yesterday or today. I assumed an owner would be around more, especially since I saw his wife last night. She is a remarkable singer." He was trying to get me speaking and was quite obvious in his attempts, but perhaps it was only because I had used the same techniques myself.

"Christine has a gifted voice." I tried not to sound overly condescending.

"But I expected her husband to be her escort." He smiled and I felt my jovial attitude leaving me. "Unfortunately he was not in attendance and left his wife to fend off any and all well-wishers." Those studious eyes searched my face as a practiced smile curled my mouth.

"Erik is a private person, much as I am. He does not attend every performance, but he was more than likely there to see his wife home afterwards."

"Could you direct me to their home?" His pencil was poised.

"That is not for me to divulge. I am sure Erik would meet with you if he was aware of your intentions. You should leave a note for him at the opera, or here, if you prefer. I can make sure he receives your missive. May I ask why you need to speak to my son?"

"Do you know a man named Joseph Buquet?"

My heart was sinking. "Only that he recently took his life at the opera house."

His eyebrows rose. "I did not realize everyone in Paris knew."

I shrugged easily. "I have many acquaintances within the opera. Gossip spreads quickly." He wrote a few more things down in his book and I found the familiar action both rude and annoying when on the other side of things.

"How well do you know your son, Monsieur Karan?" He finished writing and gave me a scrutinizing look.

I smiled to encourage him. "Very well. Erik and I have a close relationship." I was so glad we did at this point in our lives that there was no way anything would end that.

"I have been warned that he is dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I allowed myself to laugh. "Depending on the circumstances I suppose any one of us could be dangerous. A parent sheltering their child from unnecessary cruelty, for instance." The intelligent man did not miss my comment and nodded sagely at me.

"Forgive me for interrupting your evening, Monsieur Karan."

"It was no interruption. I always enjoy company in the evening." He gave me an odd look but left me without any more questions. He was sated for now, but my curiosity was only beginning to burden me. Tonight would be a long night.


	72. Unbalanced

_**Author's note: HELLO EVERYONE! Did you miss me? Sorry for how long it takes me to get these chapters out to you. Hopefully the content and length makes up for waiting so long...**_

_**Just to remind you, Erik has confessed to Christine what happened to Buquet and she is trying her best to be supportive even though Erik is his difficult self. Without further blathering on my part, here is the next installment. Enjoy!**_

**Erik**

I lay next to the most incredibly beautiful, gentle, benevolent creature, and felt unworthy down to my core. Christine's hand was soft and sure as it traced the curve of my inner elbow, over and over. She was draped half over me, holding me close as her breathing evened out, and I was stiff as a board.

My insides swirled with conflicting emotions. I was defiant. I was ashamed. I was afraid. I wanted to blurt out all my insecurities and have her laugh them off while continuing to reassure me with her gentle hands. I wanted to violently push her away and huddle in a dark corner with my head in my hands. I wanted to roll her to her back and bring our bodies together so I could forget everything but the exquisite feel of her body's embrace. I began frowning at my turn in thoughts.

Why did I always think of sex? Why was I always yearning to feel her accept me into her body? Even earlier on the couch I had thought we could forget everything and become lost in each other, and only disgust in myself had stopped me from taking her then. Did I somehow feel that the only true way to tell if she did wholly accept me was through physical connection? Would she allow me access to her body so soon after discovering my murderous rage could control me so completely? How could I even be thinking about this?

My wife was relaxing back into sleep, but I could not. I did not know how to behave. I was lost in how to accept her acceptance. She was curling up to a murderer! Did nothing faze her? Was she so entirely hypnotized by me?

These thoughts were not the thoughts of a rational man. I should be overjoyed be my wife's steadfast faith in me. Instead I was annoyed that she had reacted calmly and I was feeling churlish. How juvenile and self-flagellating. How so like me. I desperately needed someone to speak to. This did not feel healthy. Perhaps Christine's idea to attend church was a sound one. Even talking to a building seemed better than no one at all. I wanted to seek Nadir's counsel, but I did not want to disappoint him so soon. Could we not enjoy our new closeness without my thoughtless murder coming between us?

Christine wormed closer and pressed her face into the crook of my shoulder with a small contented sound. I heard her breathe evenly as she succumbed to the dream world. With her completely asleep, I relaxed a small amount. I let my hand sweep down her side and pulled her closer. My eyes closed as I felt her soft, pliant body against me. How could she hold me so close after knowing what I had done?

No matter that I felt unworthy, I relished her warm embrace. I turned my face into her hair, and buried my nose close to her skull. I breathed deeply, content to the center of my being to have her so near. It was easy to forget everything that was happening when she held me. She was the light of my very existence. I began clutching her closer. She was mine. Mine! No one would ever take away my sunshine! She was My angel. Christine belonged to me in every possible way. Her soul was entwined with mine, and mine was fully in her hands, and she forgave me. She forgave me…

Quiet tears of regret and hopelessness slipped down my face and wet my mask. I did not want to wake her and tried to disengage from her shackles of love. Her hands slipped up my chest and around my neck before I could react. Her lips graced my mask, freezing me in place as they traveled from temple to cheek, the heat perceptible through to my skin. She was still asleep though, and mumbled something unintelligible before falling back down to my collarbone.

I quelled my tears and bit my cheek to focus. She was willing to remain my loyal wife. She obviously still wanted to be with me. Christine was no longer an issue to ponder. Her choice was clear. Cameron on the other hand had been sitting very close to her when I arrived at rehearsal, a deep look of concern on his face. Was he the one to give me away?

And were those backdrops an accident due to minimized staffing in the scene shifter department, or was Antoinette targeted? These were all questions that needed answers and I had to put aside this Buquet business for now. Christine had forgiven me and no one else needed to know. I would go to church with her and fulfill her only request.

She shifted against me, into a comfortable slouch over my chest and my lips twitched as thoughts drifted from glaringly important things, to my Christine. She seemed comfortable in the most uncomfortable looking positions. As long as I was beneath her or next to her, I had a feeling she would sleep anywhere. Why worry about all those unanswered questions right now? My fingers drifted over her hair. I would figure things out later, perhaps tomorrow.

I lazed in bed, with my sleeping wife, letting her use me as her pillow. Though it sometimes pained my shoulder I was loathe to push her away. I helped press her warm soft body against me, her silky curls dancing across my torso in heated waves, her breath brushing me with warmth and coolness. Something as insignificant as pain was nothing in comparison to the soul filling perfection of her body next to mine, on top of mine, sliding over mine. I did not exactly sleep, but I dozed lightly in a painful pleasurable haze, daydreaming of better things. My lashes fluttered open when Christine yawned hours later and rolled into our early morning position. The pressure on my torn back was excruciating, but I tried not to show it on my face as the air seized in my lungs.

"Good morning, Erik." She kissed me briefly not waiting to see if I would have responded and rolled off me to rise from bed. "I hope that didn't hurt your shoulder." Her brow furrowed slightly as she assessed me. "I just couldn't resist. You stay in bed. I will start on breakfast." She was all business, twirling on her wrapper and I decided I didn't feel like arguing with her. She wanted to care for me and I wanted her to care for me, so why did it feel so wrong to let her? She paused at the door and looked back at me with a small smile. "I thought you would argue with me."

"Not this morning." I let my mouth turn up slightly and her laughter washed over me like a gift.

"Good. I was ready for you anyway." She teased before bouncing from my room happily. I stared at the spot she had disappeared. She made this seem easy. Was her forgiveness so easily bestowed? I wanted to get up and chase her to the kitchen and stare at her working, waiting for a crack in her happiness, but she returned only minutes later. I was still staring at the same spot, like some love-struck fool, waiting for my sunshine to return. She crawled back into bed and slid close.

"The kettle will take a few minutes. How do you feel?" She studied me for a breath and then cleared the hair from my brow lovingly.

"I am fine."

"Will you allow me to apply that paste to your back?" Her eyes were begging, her body pressing to me, her hands tracing my chest.

"Yes." I had no reason to argue with her. I would give her anything on this earth. I could easily give her my compliance.

"You are being so compliant this morning…" She squinted at me, mirroring my thoughts.

"For you, I would do anything." Even kill.

She noticed my serious gaze and laughed lightly. "Tell me then, why do you hate honey?" My scattered mind conjured the memory of her flicking tongue on my chest and the wet warmth invading my mouth to suck every trace from my lips. She apparently loved the taste of honey.

"When I was very young I ate an entire jar very quickly, and promptly regurgitated all over myself. The smell of honey, and even the sight, can turn my stomach."

She looked shocked for a moment and then burst into giggles. "You ate the whole jar?"

"I was hungry." I glanced away at the blanket as Christine vibrated with laughter.

"But a whole jar? All at once…and then…oh dear me…" She was laughing uncontrollably. "Was it a large jar?" She questioned in giggling disbelief and I repeated myself.

"I was hungry."

She finally noticed my sulking and ducked to look in my face. Her playfulness dropped away and after searching my face, she nodded with a sad light filling her once radiant, laughing eyes. "You were starving."

I started to shrug and remembered I shouldn't. "I was two or three at the time. I was hungry, but my stomach rejected the food I had found, and I sat in the sticky mess for hours before my mother found me." No point in telling Christine that my mother had further punished me by leaving me in my sticky clothing for a few more hours and the suffocating feel of my regurgitated honey soaked clothing was remarkably easy to bring to the forefront of my mind. "It was very unpleasant."

Christine curled silently to my shoulder and a shuddering breath went out of her. Her hand traced up to my neck where she stroked me lovingly for a peaceful moment. "I should check the kettle. I'll be right back."

She left me again and I sat up against the headboard. My shoulder still was throbbing and I wondered if it would begin to feel worse than this or only get better. I should have perhaps been more gracious to Antoinette's aid. The woman surely meant well, even if she was abrasive and rude. I needed to get straight back to work and could not afford to rest for days on end. Perhaps today could be put to good use and I could do some investigation. It would certainly not be as strenuous as building, and it needed to be done.

Christine entered with a tray of nibbles and the offending jar of paste. She explained the tea was steeping and gently slathered the wound with sticky goo. The texture reminded me of honey and I couldn't suppress my shudder. Christine patted me gently and kissed the back of my shoulder.

"The sling will cover the area nicely. No need to re wrap you." She tucked the blanket around my legs and puttered around, fetching the small table and setting it beside me. I let her fawn and flutter until we had both drank some hot tea and eaten a few bites.

"I am no invalid, Christine." I finally mentioned.

"I know." She smiled sweetly. "It's not often I get to take care of you."

"I plan on going out later."

"Out where?" She asked, more with curiosity then disapproval.

"I must speak with Cameron."

She leaned close and planted a kiss to my cheek. "But you and I also have much to speak about. You should let me see the inspector."

"There is no need for that."

"I will tell him we were together that night."

I was shocked by her willingness to bring false testimony. "I will not force you to lie to the authorities, Christine."

"I cannot lose you, Erik!" Those eyes. Those pleading golden eyes that despair and adore with the same glow.

"You will not lose me." I could not help but touch her cheek, constantly awed by her love for me. Did I love her with the same fever? The same devotion? My hand dropped away as I recalled my lewd dreams. I was a perverted monster. Was it even possible for me to love with such devotion? What was devotion? Was it the feeling I get when I see her? Was it defined by the sense of oneness when we were together? Was it only the desire to join our bodies? Was I only fooling myself into thinking I was good for Christine?

"See now, I just lost you." Christine sighed and pressed close to me, nuzzling her face into my neck. "Let me in, Erik." Her soft plea had my arms rising to hold her, but pain ripped through my shoulder. I gasped and Christine was poised to help. "Are you alright? Is it your arm?"

"I'm fine." I shook off the lightning strike of pain. "I forgot…"

Christine tsked at me and began tracing my features. Her face was radiant with love. She was love. She shone with her inner light, beckoning me towards her light, a lowly insect drawn to the flame of his death. Our lips met and all thought and reason fled me. I was drugged. I was addicted. I felt no pain, no confusion. I was whole and filled with light. Filled with love…

She pulled back and the peace was lost. My shoulder ached. My demons screamed. Questions needed answers.

**Christine**

I felt I was making progress. My husband was still tense and injured, but being next to him not only made me feel better, but him as well. I could feel how my lingering kiss affected him, how he melted towards me submissively. It would be easy to empty our minds of problems and issues by succumbing to pleasure, but I did not want to hurt him with my advances. And making love would not solve any of his inner battles at this time. I felt as if we needed time to mend this wound, figuratively and literally. Erik needed to attend church with me, he needed to open up and if not to me, then hopefully to God.

I could understand his reluctance to speak with me regarding everything, but I was quite sure he refrained from confiding in me due to fear of losing me. He needed to believe it would never happen. Why was my love constantly questioned? Was it only his insecurity or was it because he could see the tiny bit of fear I harboured towards his darkness? Was it because I could not fully love him while holding onto that fear? I shimmied closer to Erik as we lounged in his bed.

I concentrated on my inner thoughts, though my hand wandered to caress his chest and stomach. Was I truly scared of Erik? Or was I scared that I was not scared? Did my own complete and utter trust in Erik frighten me? Is that what I feared? My perfect love for an imperfect man? My heart began to thump and I buried my face in Erik's skin.

How was I clutching him so tightly if I was truly afraid? I was not afraid of Erik, nor of anything he may do to me! And yet my heart raced. Was this my own warped sense of excitement? Did his dangerous darkness excite me?

Shame flowed through me and I knew it was true. I loved all of Erik's personalities.

"Christine?" His voice sounded strained and I popped my head up. "You're squeezing my arm…"

I released his injured arm quickly. "I am so sorry, Erik. I… I…"

"…am afraid?"

The tears seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere as the sobs arrested me. I huddled next to Erik and cried, as his free hand traced soothing lines on my back.

"There is no need to be afraid." He cooed. "I am not a suspect as far as I know." It took me a moment to figure out what he was speaking about and I shuddered when I did.

"What would I do if you went to jail?"

"Christine…" He was irritated. "I told you already that you will not lose me. Do you think I will just hand myself over?"

"No…no…"

"Then enough." He commanded sharply, his eyes darkening. "I am not at all concerned with being implicated for the murder, and neither should you be."

I settled my hiccupping breath and wiped at my tears, until Erik cupped my chin gently to lift it up. "I am sorry this happened, pet. I never...wanted to kill him." Part of me thought that may be untrue due to Joseph's poisoning of me, but I decided not to say anything at the moment. "I have never really wanted to kill anyone." His brow furrowed and his eyes lost focus as they drifted on the tide of remembrance. "I just…was taken by surprise and…there was no way to deny the dark…it has been denied…so long…" He looked to be in pain as he trailed off, and he closed his eyes to lay back against the pillows. "I am not ready to speak of this." He clipped sharply.

"That's fine, darling." I encouraged, not really sure what I was saying. "When you are ready, I will be here. I will always be here." He stiffened and shifted uncomfortably.

"Could you please go now?" My heart seized in my chest at his abrupt words, and he paused with his mouth open, as if to say more. "That sounded terribly rude, dear. I only meant to ask for some rest and quiet. You may do as you like. Stay or go."

His uncaring tones hurt me deeply. He suddenly did not want me near him again. I gathered my heart and body from our bed, glancing at his face to see his eyes closed in defense against me. He lets me in momentarily and then shoves me out. I suppose I didn't expect it to be so easy, and Erik did need to rest.

I gathered the tray and left him to his thoughts. I had many of my own that swirled incessantly in my mind. I was not sorry one bit that Joseph Buquet was dead, I was only afraid that it would be discovered that Erik killed him. As far as Erik knew I was the only one privy to this information, but Meghan had seemed to know something about our business. I would have to speak to her and make sure she said nothing. She had to be told to keep silent. I was loathe to threaten her, but I knew I would, to keep Erik safe.

I glanced back at the bed where my silent husband lay injured in body and spirit. If he knew the evil lurking inside of me, beneath my wholesome exterior, would he even...

I brushed that thought aside. I accepted Erik as he was. He would accept me as I am, but perhaps now was not the best time to broach any new subjects.

**Erik**

I felt all around awful and there was no consolation for me after I sent my wife away. Why did I push her away when all I wanted was to become lost in her?

I was punishing myself. I knew it as surely as I knew I killed Buquet. The sad lonely creature wanted to punish itself and wallow in misery. It only seemed fair since Christine would not punish me herself.

I was also in pain. My shoulder and back injuries were causing a dull throb in half my torso. It was certainly not enough pain to complain about, but it was a persistent aggravation that did nothing for my mood. My head was also beginning to ache, and I knew if I developed a headache, my deformed cheek would begin to throb. It was a pattern I had grown used to, but it did not mean it was easy to deal with. I tried to rest and concentrate on the many issues I had to deal with, but it was hard to keep my thoughts aligned. My brain skipped through the many problems I wished to clear up, my focus dissapated with each throb of my body. Nothing could be solved in the state I was in. I felt as if the room was swirling slowly around me, the bed tilting languidly beneath me.

I laid perfectly still and tried to breathe in slow even intervals. It worked to calm me as I walked from the cell out into the open pit. I glanced around for my opponent before looking up to acknowledge the Shah. I never knew what to expect so it was always best to take a cursory look before bowing. Nadir was in attendance today and I tried not to look his way. It shamed me greatly when he saw this side of me, but no one could read my deformed face. I took pride in the polite indifference that graced my features.

"For the pleasure of the Shah." I called out, wanting to get this over with. A girl was shoved down the tunnel and thrust out into the open, and the crowds cheered. She was naked. I forced my eyes to stay on her and not look up in shock. What was he plotting? Was this some game? Surely he did not wish for me to kill her…

"For your pleasure, Deathbringer." He sounded smug. My pleasure?

The girl looked at me with fear plain on her face. Her hands formed a supplicating gesture as she pleaded to not kill her. The Shah laughed when I just stood there. "Take your pleasure, Deathbringer."

My eyes drifted down her naked form. She was beautifully made, with dark, flowing hair, long legs, supple hips and small breasts. I was fully aroused by this generous offering, and the girl had taken notice. My loin cloth was not a very large piece of cloth, but I was not about to rut like a beast before an audience of people, including Nadir. "I require no pleasure, oh Shadow of God."

"I am not concerned with what you require. Take her now or kill her. Your pleasure." The Shah sounded bored, but I knew he was watching every rise and fall of my lungs. I wanted her and he knew it. I wanted someone, something. I burned to feel a touch that did not bleed me, a touch that was not metal or catgut.

Her eyes were dark as ebony, shining with tears as she stared wide eyed at me. "Kill me." She pleaded and my carefully blank face turned to a sneer as the crowd tittered.

First she pleads for safety and now she begs for death? All to save the horror of laying with me when doubtless she's bedded dozens of men. I was over her crouched figure in three strides. "Am I so abhorrent?" I hissed.

"Allah…" was all she could say as she cowered before me, completely ruled by her fear. The crowd chanted and cheered. Anger pulsed through me. Darkness filled my vision. I knew better than to plead or bargain with the Shah. I would not earn myself a brutal beating for this whore who couldn't even look at me. Chances were he would make me kill her even if she did mate with me for everyone's enjoyment.

My hands reached for her neck… to lift her…to choke her…I touched her soft, warm skin and wrapped my long fingers around her throat…she screamed…

I jolted in bed, waking and jumping from bed in the same motion. I swayed on my feet as pain and confusion rippled through me. I expected to see a naked girl cowering before me in my underground bedroom, but the scream came again and I raced from the room. Christine was standing on one of the kitchen chairs, shaking with fear as she pointed to the huge rat nibbling on our potato basket.

"R..rr…rat!" She managed to stutter, but I was already in motion. I grabbed the fat vermin with my good arm and quickly strode through the living area to throw it out the front door. Rats were always a possibility down here, but Christine had been lucky enough to never encounter one. Once the threat to Christine was gone I slumped against the wall to catch my breath.

That dream…

It was still horribly vivid and I swept it into a dark corner of my mind, hoping it would lose its realistic feel. I did not recall ever killing any women or ever being offered a woman. Surely this dream was just a muddled manifestation of my past. How many times did I ache for a soft touch in those horrid days? Just someone to clear the hair from my sweaty brow or hold my hand…

I shook off my pain and turmoil and headed back to the kitchen to wash my hands. Christine was still on the chair, holding herself and glancing nervously at every corner.

"Do you think…there are more?" She squeaked and I reached up for her hand to help her down.

"They hardly ever make their way in here. I am quite sure you are safe from vermin." She buried her face in my chest, pinning my arm between us.

"Thank you, Erik. He was so big, I just…couldn't…"

"Hush pet. I threw him out. I will go and check the perimeter to make certain he cannot return…"

"Oh, but you should be resting!"

"I am fine." I assured her but she was very determined to keep me confined to my bed.

"Erik. No more arguments. Get your behind back in that bed. You need to rest up now since you have work to do later. You can check the perimeter another time."

She was pushing me back towards my room and I had to admit, if only to myself, that I needed the rest. Though sleeping did not have as much appeal when those dreams hovered on the other side of my conscious.

"Will you lie down with me?" I asked softly, knowing she had every right to be angry with me, but her movements slowed.

"Yes, of course."

We curled in bed, my head on her bosom as she ran her fingers through my hair. I could tell she wished to speak to me, but she held her tongue and offered me physical comfort. I closed my eyes and felt the healthy throb of her body as I listened to her heart. There was no sweeter music then that which echoed through me, and I found the peace I was seeking in the comfort of her embrace.

**Christine**

I held Erik close as he fell back to sleep. He seemed fragile which was ludicrous. He was the strongest person I knew, but he curled up to me and I could only imagine that he was in pain and didn't want to say anything. He seemed to be needing comfort, and I took pleasure in giving him the comfort he had never received or accepted from anyone else before. I caressed every part of him that I could reach and that was not injured. His warm breath feathered over my breasts and I felt as if he was slowing heating me with desire. I shifted my hold on him and closed my eyes.

Why could I not contain the flushing of my skin as he nuzzled my breasts with his face? He was asleep and yet I flashed with uncontained longing as I imagined straddling his hips. I pulled him closer and held him tight.

This physical connection with my husband was unreal. My breath was hitched and my heart was racing with desire and he was dead asleep, unaware of anything, though half on top of me. I could have been a pillow for all he knew. But I did like being his pillow.

After the initial rush of desire, my body cooled and I looked back more rationally on the last few moments and days. I was aching for his love. It had only been a few days, but I longed to feel our bodies come together. It was quite un lady like for me to ever admit such a thing out loud, but I wondered if Erik felt the same way? Did he wish for physical comfort as only we could give each other, but not feel he deserved any? It would be like him to think such a thing, and if it were so, then I would have to be the one to instigate any marital relations between us.

We would hold each other for now. I would prove to him my steadfast devotion and faithful heart. He would never question my love, nor my commitment again. I was his wife, his adoring wife. This was part of my job, holding him close even though he may wake up and demand I leave him again. I could never predict what his mood would be and I knew it was because I did not fully understand the thoughts in his head. He had led such a lonely life, full of sorrow and pain. He reacted the only way he knew how to react and I had to learn to navigate his moods better and not be hurt be his desire to be alone.

Perhaps I should speak to Nadir and see if he has any helpful tips to dealing with Erik. Surely he would know how best to help Erik.

I watched my rings flash in the dim light as I combed my fingers through his hair. I wanted to cradle him in my arms forever, as if he were my ailing child. I never wanted him to be hurt or sad or anything but happy. His mask was poking me in the chest and I could only imagine it was wholly uncomfortable for him as well. I wanted to take it off his face, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he would not like that. He wanted to be hidden from me for now and I didn't mind. He was still mine, whether he wore the mask or not. And I much preferred this mask to the one that was ravaging his sensitive skin. I could tell him not to glue the other one on but I knew he liked to wear it in public. It made him feel as if he could pass through a crowd unnoticed, and he might have been able to if his presence itself were not so commanding. Everywhere he went people followed him with their eyes and I'd noticed more than one appreciative female eye linger on my husband's form.

Erik mumbled in his sleep and snuggled to me and my heart swelled with love. He often spoke in his sleep and I found it entirely endearing. It was fitting that he spoke in his sleep when his defenses were down. He was not one to share information usually and the fact that he did so in slumber was adorable. Today he spoke in another language. He was tensing up though, so I brought both arms around him and held him close, rocking gently and making shushing noises. He calmed and his body relaxed again.

I breathed deeply, heartened by how in tune we were. "I love you, Erik Karan," I whispered into his hair.

**Erik **

When I woke from a deep, restful sleep, the room was dark. I fumbled around for a moment, trying to gain my senses. What day was it? What time was it? Where was Christine? I heard a sound ring out from the outer living area, metal against metal, and sat up. My shoulder was stiff with pain and I cradled my arm against my chest before standing. My back pulled and I grimaced at the feel of broken, bruised skin. Nothing would instantly remove my discomfort so I tucked the feeling away and lit a candle so I could dress. I hoped it was not too late for Christine to go to rehearsal. My odd sleeping hours always played havoc with our lives, but when I checked my watch it was still afternoon. She would make it for the last half of rehearsal if she was ready to go. I dressed quickly, ignoring the throb in my body, and went looking for my wife.

She was dressed, her hair tied back in a long braid, as she prepared some food. I made sure not to startle her and she noticed me enter the kitchen.

"Erik." She beamed at me as she wiped her hands on her apron. "How did you sleep?"

"Well." My eyes would not leave her face as I searched for any glimpse of sadness or fear. "Are you ready to go above?" Our eyes were locked, and all I could see was her love shining onto me with the strength of the sun. I wanted to fall to my knees and kiss the hem of her dress for staying by my side, and being so perfect, but my pride kept me dry eyed and standing before her. "Your rehearsal has already started."

"I'm going to rehearsal?" She smoothly removed her apron and gave me a playful glance.

"I want us to keep everything as normal as possible, which includes you performing."

"I agree." She smiled at me and I had a feeling she was thinking of something else. "Are we leaving then?"

"Yes." I turned away from her sunshine, it was too much, she was too radiant, and made my way across the dark cavern to the front door. Christine followed behind, catching up with me to touch my throbbing arm.

"Where is your sling? You must be in pain?" Her touch was a warm balm to the pulses of agony in my arm.

"I am fine." I tried to brush off her hand and her concern, but she would not budge.

"Wearing a sling will allow the joint to heal more quickly. I know you are in pain, Erik, but apparently you need me to nag at you to actually take a moment and care for yourself." I stopped, to give her my fully annoyed attention, and she lost no time in spinning to press to my front, running her fingers up my lapels to hold my masked face in her gentle hands. "Your injury will take much longer to heal if you are stubborn about this." She was right of course, but I still glared silently from behind the shelter of my mask. Her hands cupped my face as her head tilted sideways. "I want everything back to normal as soon as possible and that means you healthy and pain free, quickly. You know I'm right." She added for good measure and I had no argument. I fetched a piece of fabric that was a little nicer then the kitchen towel and allowed Christine to sling my arm.

I hated how weak I felt, but the pain was significantly decreased with the weight off my shoulder and I grumbled a thank you when she was finished. "You are very welcome." Christine began leaning to kiss my cheek and I pulled away, not wanting to indulge in such bliss as her lips upon my flesh. I needed to start thinking, not lose my mind to her gentle affections. She tried to hide the look of hurt that flashed through her eyes, but I had been watching for the moment her cheery façade broke down. Bitterness filled me that I had caused it on purpose. I could have let her kiss me. We both would have taken a small piece of enjoyment from a chaste shared kiss, but I was undeserving! Why did she still love me? I was not worth her love…

Worth it or not, I still had Christine's love, and what to do about it was driving me insane. Was I supposed to just carry on and pretend like she did not know my hands had snapped a man's neck with such glorious ease? Was I still allowed to hold her and kiss her and love her with hands that caused and carried a corpse? Is that what she wanted? Death's hands on her curls and curves?

I glanced back at her as we ascended, and she smiled slightly at me. I turned back, remained silent and continued on. What could I possibly say to her now? I had pushed her away earlier, only to draw her near and push her away once more. Perhaps I needed a firm stance on the subject of physicality. I was ashamed to admit that I was not strong enough to resist her if she offered comfort, but I felt dirty and weak for giving in. No matter that the world fell away when her lips met mine, reality reeled its head every time we parted. Angels cannot consort with hell spawn demons. Perhaps once we went to church together and I felt moderately cleansed of my sin, then I could seek her affectionate touch again. Until then I would respect our need for healing, and physically keep my distance from my wife. It was only good sense.

**Christine **

I stifled an irritated sigh and followed the silent shadow of my husband. He was being perfectly ridiculous and as much as I wanted to call him out and point out the many things he was doing wrong, I did not want to be arguing with him. If my silent compliance kept him from getting angry…

What did it matter if he got angry? Better to see fire in his eyes than nothing at all! Better to be riding a cresting wave of emotion than shutting off every outlet of your internal fire, of your very soul!

Erik brought me to my dressing room, brooding behind his blank face. He clipped out that he would find me later and I reached to give him a peck goodbye. He jerked away from me as if I had leprosy and I fought to keep the pleasant look on my face.

"Until later then." I smiled with every ounce of my acting skill, before turning to sit at the powder table and pin up my braided hair. Erik turned and left so abruptly that I had barely sat down. My hands refused to lift themselves and I stared at my dejected expression for a few minutes.

What more could I do? I offered support and love at every turn and he still denies me and pushes me away. Did he honestly want me to punish him instead? Would that make him feel better? Would a punishment allow him to move on? And if a physical punishment was what he truly wanted, could I even see it through to the end?

I desperately needed council.

**Erik**

Cameron was found in the thick of rehearsal, but rolled away from Reyer the moment he saw me.

"Where is our diva?" He asked jovially, unaware of the daggers Carlotta was throwing at his head.

"She will be here momentarily. She needed to put up her hair." I noticed the hush over the cast and crew and I felt as if a hundred pairs of eyes were upon me. The sling felt restrictive to my breathing and I pried at the expensive cloth, trying to loosen it about my neck.

"I expect you will heal?" He nodded towards my injury and I grunted.

"Eventually. Could we speak in private?" I felt as if every word we spoke was being devoured by hungry beasts and I wanted to get out of the public eye.

Cameron wheeled off to our office without asking a single question. Once we were safely ensconced, I relaxed.

"Care for a drink? You look tense, Erik."

"I am tense." I groused as I carefully lowered into a chair.

"All the more reason to drink." Cameron poured me a scotch to go with his. "How is Christine? After her episode, I was not expecting her to come in today."

"Episode?" I shot the liquor in one gulp, knowing it would help alleviate some pain and clear my head. As long as I had only one drink.

"She fainted yesterday. Did she not mention to you…?" Cameron only had to look at my face to tell that she had not told me this. "Whoops. Perhaps she was going to tell you later. Anyhow, it wasn't all that bad. She was only unconscious for a minute."

Anger was boiling inside my brain. Christine. Fainted. She did not tell me. I was finding out from Cameron instead. "Is that why you were fawning over her when I arrived?"

"Fawning? Really, Erik." He rolled his eyes. "You are very dramatic at times. Your poor, sweet wife was shaken and it was all my fault. Shall I ignore her the next time?"

I ignored his sarcasm and glared. "How exactly was it your fault?"

"I thought she knew about Joseph Buquet and was quite blunt speaking about his death. She became overwhelmed. She is so sweet and dear…"

"I know what my wife is." I was ashamed to hear my voice almost growling.

"I assumed you would have told her." He gave me an odd look before tipping back his glass.

I shifted in the chair to take pressure off my back. "Christine should never have to hear such things from my lips."

"But better yours than mine." Cameron drained his glass. "Any reason in particular you neglected to mention it to her?"

He was giving me a lascivious sort of look and I recalled that to everyone else, Christine and I were recently married and supposed to be lost in exploring one another fully. "It would have ruined the mood." I tried to keep my tone light and I hoped Cameron would assume any tension on my part was due to injury.

"How is the arm, really?" He gestured towards my sling.

"Fine. Christine insisted on the sling."

"So what did you need to speak about?" He asked absently as he made some notes in a ledger.

"Madame Giry. Is it possible she was targeted yesterday?" I made my statement in all seriousness but Cameron gaped at me for one second before bursting into gales of laughter. First Christine, now Cameron. I sighed and checked my pocket watch as Cameron controlled himself.

"You are too much, Erik. By whom? Who, in their right mind, would want Giry for an enemy?"

"Perhaps someone not in their right mind. Someone well paid. And if those backdrops had hit her, she would be no one's enemy. She would be dead."

He was staring at me incredulously. "Do you honestly never trust anyone?"

"Trust must be earned. Don't try to tell me you trust everyone implicitly?"

"No, but…targeted? Why would you even think of that?"

"Someone paid off Joseph and could be controlling…" I trailed off glancing at the door. "Someone is very sneaky," I spoke louder as I stood silently with a finger to my lips to keep Cameron quiet. "But something just doesn't feel right…" The door swung inwards and Meg Giry fell into the office at my feet.

My lips curled in amusement at catching her at her childish antics. "Mademoiselle? Won't you join us?"

**Nadir **

I settled myself in the comfortable seat of the auditorium and prepared to watch rehearsal. Neither Christine nor Erik were in attendance and I instantly was worried, but I kept it all inside as I smiled at acquaintances and friends. The orchestra was practicing their piece as a few dancers moved through a dance while Mme Giry taped the rhythm with her cane. I noticed a seldom used side door open to admit Christine to the auditorium. She moved stealthily along the line of chairs and I was quite certain I was the only one who noticed her come in. She sat in the audience and watched until the orchestra paused and then she stood to greet Monsieur Reyer. They spoke briefly and he shook his head while Christine ascended to the stage. She warmed her voice for twenty minutes while the dancers and singers walked through their performance.

Christine noticed me during her warm up and sent a beaming smile my way. She appeared to be fine and it lent my heart some comfort that she seemed happy and whole. They sang a few pieces and when Reyer announced break, Christine came to sit with me.

"Nadir." She embraced me tightly, for longer than necessary, and I was a little embarrassed by her overt affection in public. "I was just thinking of you this morning." She sat primly beside me and I cut right to the chase.

"How is Erik? I have reason to be worried for him." Christine looked startled but then glanced around covertly.

"I am worried for him as well." She spoke softly. "I was wondering if you might have some insight into how to deal with his …mood swings."

"Mood swings?"

"He is content one moment and troubled the next. I don't always know how to handle him. I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing."

"Erik does have the tendency to blow up over the smallest things."

"And all I want is for us to be happy." She did not look very happy.

"As does he, my dear, but he is too complex for it to be easy."

"That's just it." She gestured with her hands. "We would be happy, but he refuses to allow it. He wars against my love and I just don't understand why." She looked so dejected that I put a comforting hand over hers.

"Give him time. Be patient. Erik will come around. He loves you, Christine. In the end he will realize that love is all that matters."

"How long will that take?" She pouted. "The end sounds awfully far away."

"Be strong." I offered and she sat up straighter, nodding as if she agreed with me.

"I will." She looked determined and I was having that sinking feeling again. What else would cause Erik to turn away from his adoring bride?

"Is Erik off working?" I asked carefully.

"He is in the office with Cameron. Did you not see him come in?"

"I must have missed him."

Christine looked as if she wanted to say more, her expressive face showing her concern and hesitance. "Nadir? I wanted to ask you?"

"Yes?"

"I wondered if you might tell me more of Erik's time in Persia. I believe it weighs heavily on him and he recently…he has reason…to be thinking of his past…and I only thought if I knew more, I could help him better." She looked entirely innocent, but her words felt like daggers of ice to my conscious.

"Erik's past is not something to be spoken of lightly, Christine." I leaned forward and took her hands, urgent for her to listen and heed me. "I will ask only this of you. Let the past go. Erik lived through horrors and he and I have no wish to re live them. His illness has even allowed some of those horrors to be forgotten. Believe me when I say they are better left forgotten. You have the chance to give him a new life, and new hope. Please, don't burden him with his past. Leave it in the shadow where it belongs. Love him now, as he is, and work from there. Please Christine? Can you do that for me and for Erik?"

Her face and eyes were serious as she nodded slowly. I knew she would try, but Christine was a curious girl and wanted answers to her questions. She would leave this for now, but I had a feeling Erik's past would come up again.

"What brings you here today?" Christine politely moved the conversation forward and I enjoyed a few minutes of her company before she was needed back on stage. She was a true joy to watch as she swept through her movements approaching her mark where her solo began. Her emotive eyes lifted as the first notes left her throat and I was transported to a better place by the crystal clarity of her voice and the captivating beauty within her. It was no mystery to me why Erik had fallen in love with this girl.


	73. Unfinished Business

_**Author's note: Can you believe there is an update so quickly? Please review :)**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Erik**

Meg stood with as much dignity as she could muster and brushed down her skirts. Cameron did not look amused and though I wanted to ask her what the devil she thought she was doing spying on us, I thought I would leave the reprimanding to her future husband. Unfortunately Cameron said nothing at all and Meghan glanced at me.

"Learn anything?" I gave her a peeved look and she sniffed and thrust out her chin.

"Only to not lean so heavily on the door when I'm eavesdropping." She swept through the office to Cameron's side and then sat lightly on the arm of his wheel chair.

"And why are you eavesdropping on us?" Cameron asked angrily, but Meghan was ignoring him quite well even though she was almost in his lap.

"Just wanted to see what you two were discussing in private." She shrugged and inspected her fingernails and I rolled my eyes.

"Knocking and joining us politely was not a viable option?" I asked sarcastically and Meg looked up with a smirk on her lips.

"Being sneaky is much more fun, don't you agree, Monsieur Phantom? You learn much more. But since we are being so direct now. What were you talking about?" She grinned at me as I settled back into my chair. She looked happy to see me.

"We have to discover if yesterday was an accident."

"You don't believe it was?"

"No. The positioning was too precise. The reaction time limited. It seemed thought out, planned, staged." Meg was nodding as Cameron gaped at her.

"I agree. It was too perfect. Thank goodness you were unexpectedly there, Erik." The grateful glow to Meghan's face was making my collar itch, but I supressed the urge to adjust my sling.

"You can't be serious." Cameron put in, but Meg's bright blue eyes were focused on me.

"Who do you suspect?"

"Who else?" I shrugged and Meg smirked.

"La vache!" She struggled with her expression and settled on being proud of herself.

"I am sitting right here!" Cameron raised his voice. "Would you refrain from have a conversation around me, please." The last word, not at all a plea, but a mild growl through clenched teeth made me look at him closely. He was quite unhappy with both of us, but trying to contain himself. Seeing that blatant, burning anger in his eyes made me feel not so badly about my own fire. Did all men react the same way? Perhaps to different excesses, but with the same fire and darkness in their soul?

"Cameron? We weren't…" Meg glanced down at him and then scooted off his chair and stood awkwardly beside him. "I'm sorry. I thought we were all on the same page." She looked very sheepish and it was an interesting side of Meghan. I was so used to her defiance and jutting chin, but at the moment she looked very demure and conceding. I tried not to eavesdrop on them, as his voice hushed to an angry whisper.

I reached into my cloak where I'd felt something heavy in one of my hidden pockets. I wasn't sure what was in the pocket, but as I felt the napkin folded around a warmish square, I knew what I held. Christine had slipped a biscuit of some kind into my pocket. My heart warmed with love for her and I pulled out my breakfast. A small crumpled piece of paper came out with it and I straightened the torn scrap, thinking it a note from my wife and reading my own handwriting. 'I live not…It all fades…'

How depressing that was.

I pretended great interest in the oat and fruit square I held. It smelled divine and I took a small bite as Cameron and Meghan finished their little whispered tête-à-tête, with twin sighs.

"I am sorry for raising my voice." He took her hand. "Do you think your mother is truly in danger?"

"It seemed too perfect. I don't know. You don't?" She glanced up at him worriedly and I felt like their whole argument was because of me. I shouldn't have said anything of my suspicions until I had more evidence. Cameron still looked angry and now Meghan was moving to kneel before him. Why did I cause problems where ever I travelled? The chair creaked as I stood abruptly, and they both looked over, stirred from their private moment.

"We can speak later." I wasn't sure who I was really speaking to. I sort of needed to have private conversations with them both, but now was unnecessary. I quickly left even though I heard them both call after me. I made it no further than the closed door because I was abruptly accosted by Madame Giry.

"We must speak." She tilted her head up and the door opened behind me. Meg ushered us both in and I stifled an irritated sigh. My head was not up for this today.

"What is this?" Mme Giry was looking at each of us equally. "A private gathering of great minds?" She looked suspicious and Meghan laughed heartily.

"Oui, Maman. We are discussing some opera issues."

"Then what are you here for?"

Meg looked hurt. "I am not without my own ideas."

"Indeed." Mother and daughter had a silent staring match and I glanced at Cameron. He rolled his eyes at me and came out from behind his desk.

"Madame Giry, if I may ask, I am wondering how you feel about your near death experience. These two seem to believe there is a plot for your life." He was trying to make a joke of our suspicions, but his smile faded as Antoinette's face hardened.

"Why would anyone wish me dead? I am just a ballet instructor."

While Cameron agreed with Antoinette and tried to defuse the last few minutes, I had an epiphany. She knew why she was a target. She was tense, trying to hide it, and not doing a good job. Perhaps she had come to speak to me and Cameron of her concerns, but did not want Meghan to know. I settled in my chair and let them converse around me. I was not as bothered by it as Cameron was, but I could see how he would be annoyed by being ignored. I glanced casually at his chair and how his head was tilted to look up at the ladies. His anger at Meghan and I seemed suddenly justified.

"Have you noticed anything suspicious?" Cameron was asking.

"Nothing." Antoinette shook her head, but Meg nodded.

"Maman! What about that man?"

"He was no one."

"A man?"

"Just one of the scenery painters."

"He was in your room, Maman!"

"He was looking for the schedule."

"In your room?"

"Never mind about that."

"That is strange, you must agree." Cameron was starting to sound curious.

"Strange but not unheard of." Madame dismissed.

"So you are not concerned?"

"Not at all. But I am concerned that you are missing rehearsal, young lady." Antoinette gave Meg her full attention. "You will not be dancing for much longer and I want you to make a lasting impression upon the theater scene. I want everyone for years to come to remember your effortless grace and beauty. Will you hurry back to practice please? Lead the girls through the dances. They are half as good without you there." I had never heard so many compliments spill from Antoinette's mouth and Meghan was equally as shocked.

"Maman?" She smiled tentatively and Antoinette leaned to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Run along now, darling. They are waiting for you."

Meghan hussled away and Cameron and I both turned our attention to Antoinette.

"Impressive." I nodded towards the closed door, and Antoinette sniffed.

"I know my daughter."

"Tell us about this man."

Antoinette did not have much to share. Only that her and Meg caught the man leaving her room and he claimed he was the new scene shifter looking for the schedule so he would know the times of rehearsal and such.

"He didn't think to ask?" Cameron was beginning to believe us. "Something is going on here."

"Agreed." I nodded and Antoinette made a nervous gesture. "Madame, when are you going to stop flirting around the subject and tell us what you suspect?"

Antoinette looked slightly taken aback and then her eyes narrowed at me. "This is all about you."

"Me?" I said just as Cameron said, "Erik? What about him?"

"I am targeted because of the phantom." She paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "I believe the man was looking for your mail."

"What?" My mind spun with possibilities. Was Carlotta trying to find some evidence of foul play on my part? Did she think I was so foolish that I would post something of such importance? And if so, why was I exactly being targeted? What did she hope to gain? "Impossible. Who knows of our arrangement?"

"Everyone who sends your mail here!"

"Which would be people privy to the information passing between us and completely unnecessary for them to take it by stealth?"

She snorted and looked nervous. I knew she was trying to divert us.

"If you do not wish for my aid then I will be on my way." I stood and nodded to Cameron, who looked a little lost. They were both too startled by my hasty exit to stop me and as I increased the distance between the office and myself, I reached into my pocket to retrieve Christine's treat.

"Erik!" My name, barked loudly for anyone to hear, by an aging female voice, made me stop in my tracks. The shock of having Antoinette call after me was only emphasized when I turned and saw her hurrying towards me with her skirt in her hand. Not wanting to be caught so off guard by her behaviour, I answered swiftly.

"Yes, witch?"

She stumbled to a stop in front of me and her blue eyes were wide with confusion. I was left wondering if mother and daughter had switched places somehow, but her eyes narrowed and reality was restored. "Did you just call me a witch?"

"You did drug me." I wished my arm wasn't in the sling so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable.

Her chin rose. "You were far less difficult to deal with in that state." She showed no remorse for her action, so I showed none for mine.

"Therefore, yes Witch?"

Her lips pursed as if deciding now what to say when clearly she had something to tell me before. "Inspector Voisard has been looking for you. He is a very persistent man. Nadir is in the theater waiting for you, and Christine spoke with him during her break. If you see a man with dark hair and a mole under his left eye, that is the man who was in my room."

I was slightly taken aback by her abrupt report. "Why are you reporting this to me?"

Antoinette straightened her spine. "Perhaps I was wrong about you." Her blue eyes did not soften, as if they could, but they held respect.

"How the mighty have fallen…" I scrutinized her demeanor.

Her lip curled slightly. "If it comes down to choosing sides, I wanted you to know, I am on yours. Both Meghan and I."

"Ah…" Not wanting to be so tongue tied I found something to say. "Thank you for mending my shoulder." She nodded, uneasy with our new camaraderie, and turned on her heel to stride away. I stayed where I was so I could digest what had just happened and eat another few bites of the strawberry oat cake, but I only managed to pull it out of my pocket before someone called down the hall.

"Ah! Monsieur Karan! I have been trying to catch you for days."

"Inspector Voisard." I nodded politely and waited for him to say his piece. He was looking at my face curiously and I realized he had not seen my white mask before. He was clearly wondering why I was wearing such an odd item. I had looked normal to him before and now his suspicion of me was increased all because of my accursed face. "What can I do for you?" I tried to be polite as I tucked the square back in the pocket, but his eyes snapped to my hand.

"What's that you have?" Part of me bristled at being treated so suspiciously but I also found bragging about Christine to be immensely pleasurable.

"My late breakfast?" I pulled out the napkin and unfolded it so he could see the delectable goodie that my sweet wife had conjured in my kitchen. "My wife doesn't like it when I skip meals in favour of work."

"You must be a very busy man." He pulled out his note book. "I have been waiting here for the last few days hoping you would show up, but I suppose Count Inninbalm takes care of most things here?"

The man was already irritating me with his assumptions, and pain was throbbing from my shoulder, down my back and up my neck into my temple, and my stomach was growling for its breakfast. "We are partners in the opera, but I have my construction business to take care of as well. Houses do not build themselves."

"And yet you found time to be married. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"How did you meet Christine Daae?"

"Monsieur," I sighed as if dealing with a child. "I don't mean to be rude, but I cannot see how this is pertinent to your investigation."

"I was only being polite. If you prefer to not answer…"

"I am a very busy man. I don't have time for useless chatter."

The man's spine straightened and his face hardened while I cursed my impatience. "I spoke to your father yesterday and he was very clear in defending you."

I was floundering in my mind but my face remained stoic as I waved off Nadir's actions. "Father is constantly defending me."

"Why is that, if I may ask, and, of course, if you have a spare second to answer?" The man needed dealing with and he didn't seem like one who would be content with a trivial answer.

"I was born deformed and father has constantly been defending me from harm."

"Deformed…?" His face faltered, glancing at my sling, and I swiftly decided on my course of action. I removed my mask in a fluid motion and he paled considerably.

"You see, people are not so polite and accepting once they have seen my face. You understand? I keep to myself for this reason, and my father has grown very protective of me."

"Monsieur, I did not…"

"My other mask is more seamless." I calmly replaced my white plaster and the man almost shuffled his feet. "I really must be going. I have a dozen things to accomplish today. If you need to speak to me again you can leave a message with Comte Inninbalm. We see each other frequently. Good day."

I was able to leave him standing there and make my way to the auditorium. Nadir was obviously here to speak with me about his meeting with the policeman. The pain in my head was making it difficult to concentrate and I thought of my soft bed with an unusual yearning. Christine would make me tea and run her fingers through my hair. I shook my head to dispel the lovely thoughts and ended up making my forehead throb again.

My energy was failing and I hadn't even accomplished anything yet. I still had to speak with Cameron and Meghan and now Nadir was here as well. The auditorium door was within my sights when Christine's voice broke into song. My feet faltered as my soul shook to be near her. Her golden voice…

I floated towards the sound of music and my eyes found Christine as soon as they could. I drank the sight of her, my radiant glowing angel. She was so perfect, so exquisite as she sang for me. I should have her singing more often. How could I have forgotten how it sustained my heart and soul to hear her sing?

**Christine**

Rehearsal was going fine until Erik walked in. I could feel the shift in the air as he entered the room. My heart picked up speed and his silent shadowed presence distracted me more than ever. He was incredibly suave and handsome, even in his white mask and sling, and I knew my performance was floundering in my love for Erik. My professionalism is all that kept me from stopping the song and going to him right then and there like some sort of automaton.

From what I could tell from the corner of my eye, he was also very distracted by me. It became apparent when the dancers, who had been relaxing near stage right, managed to surround him. They were trying to gain his attention, though all that existed for him was me. I kept glancing towards the circle of scantily clad females surrounding my oblivious husband. I was forgetting to act my part and instead was only managing to sing it properly, as my eyes locked with Erik's. His soul was calling to me from behind his troubled eyes. He needed me and he was too focused on my voice to notice the slender hands delicately touching him in appreciation.

Anger pressed into my throat and the orchestra was suddenly playing without their soprano. Reyer finally looked up and gestured to stop. The music ended with a garbled strain. "Madame Karan?"

Air buzzed in my ears, or perhaps it was the buzz of everyone gossiping in the theater. "I need a moment, please." I felt truly like a diva then, causing a delay for my own personal reasons. I tried not to hurry off the stage and hold some restraint over myself, but my intent was obvious to all as I headed straight for the crowd of dancers. "Erik?" I reached for him and he came into my arms immediately, embracing me with his one good arm. My eyes narrowed at the girls over his shoulder, and they backed off.

"Why did you stop? You sounded incredible." He pulled back to stare at me and I could hardly believe he had allowed the girls to touch him like that.

"It looked a little crowded around here." I glanced at the dancers and his gaze followed. He looked startled to have so many ladies around us and his gaze darkened. I inwardly sighed. I should not have said anything and just enjoyed his love for my voice a little longer. "How are you feeling?" I tried to distract him.

"Fine." He replied curtly and his masked glare was much more effective in riding us of the crowd of girls. They scampered away and his glare suddenly switched to me. "Did you faint yesterday?" My mouth opened silently. Oops. "You should not be rehearsing." He spoke firmly and loudly enough that Reyer heard and interjected, even as Erik pulled me tightly to his side.

"I told Madame that she did not have to rehearse. Enough that she already performed last night, I encouraged her to rest today because we did not require her. It was mostly Act 2 with the dancers…" He stopped when he noticed that he had just made things worse for me.

"You insisted?" Erik was growing more incensed by my cavalier attitude towards my fainting spell, and I said the only thing I had been thinking.

"I love singing. I just wanted to sing…" I'd wanted to just lose myself in song for a few minutes, but now that desire made me feel as if I was attempting to escape my life. Fire rose up inside me for thinking such a thing and I met Erik's stare. "Besides, you insisted I come to rehearsal."

"That was before I knew you lost consciousness yesterday."

"I was prepared to stay home. I would have been perfectly happy staying home."

Erik fought with his reactions and I could see that he was not feeling strong at the moment. He wanted to be resting. "We can go back home immediately." We spun to leave, and I think we both remembered Nadir at the same time. Our steps both turned in sync without a word and we made our way to where he was sitting. Reyer had already pulled rehearsal back in his control and music began flowing behind us.

Nadir and Erik both smiled as they neared, though Erik's smile was less happy. I stared at him in concern. He was already very strange and distant today. And now I had neglected to tell him of my fainting spell and Cameron saving me from hurting myself. There had just been so much happening at once yesterday…

Nadir glanced at me and I realized he wanted to speak to Erik alone. It was probably the whole reason he had come today. I told my husband I would wait in my dressing room and perhaps lie down for awhile, which appeased his worry over my health, but as I turned from the two men, I caught Meghan's eye from across the theater.

She nodded towards the back of the stage and disappeared. I detoured to follow. Now was a good time to speak with her about Erik.

**Nadir**

Erik looked awful.

"What happened?" I asked in awe as he eased into the chair next to me.

"Dislocated my shoulder." He plucked at the sling in irritation and then glanced at the stage to watch absently. He said nothing further as music swelled and girls danced for a few minutes and I grew restless. I was also slightly annoyed at Christine for not mentioning Erik's injury to me. Did it happen in a fight with Buquet?

"How exactly did you dislocate your shoulder?" I whispered deftly in his ear.

"I was hit with some backdrops."

"By accident?" He glanced at me and his expression softened as his lips quirked in amusement beneath the edge of his mask.

"No, I stood underneath on purpose." He was silently laughing at me, and I settled back in my chair with a roll of my eyes. "Of course, by accident." He chuckled lightly, but I noticed how strained he looked. He was in pain. "There was a malfunction," he continued in quiet whispers. "Mme Giry was beneath the falling fabric, but I got to her in time."

"Antionette?" I asked in shock, before regaining my composure, as people turned to glance at us.

"Perhaps we should leave the theater." Erik began to stand and I rose as elegantly as possible after sitting for so long. My knees popped uncomfortably and I scrambled to get my cane under me before I fell over. Erik's hand gripped my arm tightly as one knee buckled.

"Father?" His voice held concern and fear, so close to the surface, that I felt my heart tremble with joy even as my body echoed with pain. It was not often that he was so blatant with his emotions, and right now it was quite obvious he cared for me very much.

**Christine**

Meg was hiding behind a scenery piece and pulled me in to join her.

"Can we find somewhere better to talk?" I glanced up at the catwalks above us where prying ears could be listening.

"What's wrong with here?" Meg shrugged and shoved me from our hiding place. "Fine. Let's go out in the hall?" We started towards my dressing room and Meg couldn't contain herself. "Erik thinks Maman is in danger. I believe him. Some strange man was in Maman's room and he tried to get away from us, but we stopped him and made him talk. Erik and Cameron will figure this out, I know, but Cameron was really angry at me, mostly because we were ignoring him and he _hates_ when people do that, so he wasn't really mad at Erik, because I am the one who knows how he hates being ignored and I sat there on his chair talking like he wasn't even there. Sometimes I'm so stupid…"

"Whoa. Meg stop." I couldn't listen to the rambling anymore and I didn't like her calling herself that. We were almost at my room anyway. "I think you need to slow down and start from the beginning."

"Oh, Christine." She grabbed me by my arms and her face was so many things, excited, scared, happy, and sad. "I think I'm pregnant!" She blurted and my mind went numb with shock.

"Get in!" I shoved her into my room and closed the door. "What are you talking about? Everything! Right now!"

Meg told me everything, even that she thought she was pregnant since it had been too many weeks from her courses. She had decided to say nothing for now, which I argued could cause problems, but she said there was always a chance that you lose the child in the first three months and didn't want to upset Cameron that way. All her talk of courses made me suddenly realize mine was also late. My ears were humming and Meg's voice faded in and out.

She shook me with a look of concern. "Are you alright? Are you going to faint? Why do you keep fainting? Christine!"

"I'm fine." I finally found my tongue. "I might be pregnant too. I hadn't even thought about it with everything that has happened."

Meg hugged me and made me promise not to breathe a word about any of this and she would do the same for me. I agreed and was reminded of my reasons to speak to her.

"Meghan, I need to speak with you of something equally as serious."

"Of course." She sat back, ready for anything. I was so glad I met Meghan and that we had become friends. She was a beautiful person, even if she did like to do things her way all the time, she was steadfast and true and full of love. I took a deep breath.

"You seem to know something that I thought was private between Erik and I."

"You mean…the night Joseph died?" Her face was very intent.

"Yes. Did Erik tell you?"

"I figured it out, Christine. There was the blood in your room and you didn't come to rehearsal. I bet Joseph got in here through your private entrance." She pointed at the mirror and I wondered what else she knew of mine and Erik's life, while I also noted that what she had figured out was not quite reality.

"So, Erik told you what exactly?" She looked suspicious suddenly.

"Well…Erik asked me not to talk about it with you…so…"

"So?" I encouraged.

"I can't, Christine! I don't want Erik mad at me."

"You didn't seem to care a second ago."

"What are you talking about?"

My eyes narrowed at her, frustrated with any lack of progress and her stubbornness. "You just told me Joseph, and you apparently, knew about an entrance that I thought was a secret."

"It is! I haven't told a soul! I wouldn't, Christine. I swear on my unborn child." She put her hand over her stomach and I felt queasy with the thought that I might have a child in my own stomach.

"I just thought if you knew some of what happened…It could be a bad thing." Meg leaned close and stared into my eyes.

"Bad?"

"Very bad."

"I'm confused." Her face screwed up and I took her hands. I did not want to reveal any extra information to Meg, but I wanted her to understand how serious her misinterpreted knowledge was.

"You are my best friend, Meghan, truly my dearest sister. I just want you to hold your tongue and be very careful of what you say. A few silly words could put Erik and I in danger. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly and then put her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me. "Why does everything seem so complicated?"

"Because everything is."

**Erik**

I helped Nadir out into the main hall so our voices would not disturb the rehearsal. He was obviously here for one reason. It wasn't often he came to check up on me, and I was ready to answer his questions about Marceaux Voisard. I was curious to hear what he would say about the man and I was glad to be out of the theater. We sat on a cushioned bench down the hall and Nadir put his hand on my knee.

"I must apologize to you, Erik."

"Apologize?" This startled me almost as much as the large warm hand on my knee.

"I came here today because I thought terrible things…" His hand tightened on my leg and then he patted me twice before taking back his hand. "I was quite wrong though. You make me so proud, Erik. Saving Antoinette even though she may not be your favorite person…" He smiled at me and his emerald eyes were sparkling with his love and pride. My mouth felt like sand. "How is your shoulder? Will you heal nicely? Do you need a doctor? I know a good one." He looked suddenly worried and I kept talking to ignore the swell of disgust I felt towards myself. I was unworthy not only of Christine's love, but of any love at all. Better I feel the sting of a whip. It was at least what I deserved.

"Antoinette re set my shoulder and Christine has been tending me. I should be fine."

"That lady is remarkable." I was left unsure which lady he was speaking of and decided I didn't want to know right now.

"I ran into Inspector Voisard today…" I started and he took over.

"That man came to my home looking for you and asking questions. I must admit that I thought the worst, Erik, and now I feel very ashamed for even thinking that you would…be capable of…never mind any of that. You are a hero." He patted my back gently and I pushed yet more insignificant words through my tight throat.

"I am no hero."

"Nonsense." Nadir laughed and sighed. "To have been able to see you fly through the air and tackle that rigid woman…"

His laughter helped me calm slightly, but his words only brought back such painful memories of other things he was forced to watch me do. He probably wished he could have seen me save someone instead. "Nadir, I need to get to my bed. My head is beginning to ache."

"Do you need a ride? Or…" His eyebrow quirked at me and I thought about taking Christine home, but I wanted to get the bed upstairs before staying there again and now with my shoulder…

I dropped my head into my hand with a groan. "No ride. See you on Sunday?"

"Sunday it is." He gave me a gentle one armed hug before leaving with heavy use of his cane. I didn't like how he was walking and tried to remember to ask after his health on Sunday. My head throbbed with such sudden intensity that I staggered to the side. My stomach emphasized its empty state with a loud rolling growl. I pulled out Christine's baked treat and took two messy bites, crumbs dancing down my shirt front. I brushed at them, and then strode to one of my hidden entrances into a tunnel. Once in the darkness I ate the rest of the square with aplomb. It was as delicious as it smelled and I was relieved Christine had thought ahead for me. My angel.

I started down the dark corridor towards Christine's dressing room with too many things on my mind. I had to speak to Cameron about Mme Giry. I had to speak to Meghan about Cameron and her mother, who was suddenly acting out of character. I had to go to church and try to unburden my soul. Nadir was apologizing for thinking me capable of exactly what I had done. I was disgusted with myself, but no one would ever discover my part in Joseph's suicide. He took his own life the moment he looked at Christine.

My teeth were grinding together which was doing nothing for my head. Pain was echoing through my body in waves of discomfort and I suddenly had to hold myself up against the rock wall. My heart trembled in my chest, causing a tremor to ripple down my back. I was hunched and panting all of a sudden, and saliva filled my mouth just before my stomach twisted.

I heaved up the breakfast I'd only finally eaten and my insides were already shaking before all went black with dizzying completeness.

**Christine**

Meg had left long ago and still Erik had not come. I wanted to find him and Nadir and see what they could possibly be speaking of for so long! But I did not want to leave my dressing room and not be present for when Erik came looking for me. I did as he would want me to and laid on the bed to rest. My hands covered my stomach and I closed my eyes to search inside myself.

Was I possibly pregnant? Erik was always so careful about taking the special oil that there was only one evening that he might have slipped up. I cradled an arm over my stomach as I rolled to my side. Was there a tiny infant growing in my stomach? A child created from a moment of madness…

Tears washed down my face and I prayed to God that I was not pregnant.

**Erik**

My lashes fluttered and though I could feel cold stone beneath me, I was roiling as if at sea. I tried to roll over but my arm was tangled. I jerked and pain ricocheted down my frame.

What the devil…?

I groaned as I sat up and held my head in my free hand. I realized I was in a tunnel again. How many times had I recovered from seizures in these damn tunnels? I pushed myself to my feet and swayed even with one hand on the wall. I shuffled forward and tried to figure out where I was and where I had been headed. The tunnel leading down to the lake was close by and I assumed I'd been heading home.

My progress was laborious and slow, but I finally made it to my front door and images of Christine's smiling face was all I needed to spur me the last few feet. She would fill me with her light and I would feel a hundred times better, but as the door opened I was greeted with only more darkness.

My heart pounded in my chest and I leaned against the frame as my mind spun wildly. She wasn't here. The rush of panic made my hands tremble with shock. Where else could she be? Her dressing room? I checked my watch and saw that rehearsal would be over. Was she waiting for me in her dressing room?

The more I thought of it, the more familiar the idea seemed. Did I even tell her to wait there for me?

Dammit. I turned from my door and focused my strength on one simple task. Find my wife.

The journey back up was excruciating. My entire arm was throbbing and I had a hunch that my seizure may have reinjured my arm. Just a few more minutes and Christine and I would be down below and she would tend to my pains. I just would have to remind myself to allow it and not push her away.

Her mirror came into view and relief drenched my limbs with weakness. I paused in the place where I first saw Joseph Buquet, the very place where I chose to let the darkness win. Where I relished the feeling of letting go…

I shook my head, and bit my cheek. I was pushing myself to the extreme, but I only had to make it back down with her in tow and then I could collapse.

The mirror slid away and she turned in worried exuberance. "Erik!" She threw her arms around me and I groaned as a few sobs left her. "Where were you? What took so long?" I couldn't answer her as I shook lightly in her arms. Relief, joy, love and solace raced through me as we clutched one another. "Erik?"

I couldn't think past my emotion for this woman. It overwhelmed every other thought. I cupped her chin in my hand as I stared down at her, and almost sobbed when her lips sought mine with vigor. We kissed with complete abandon, Christine pressed against me and the pain that her touch caused made me pull her closer. I was dizzy. The room spun…

"ERIK!" Her shriek penetrated the fog and I caught myself. "What happened? Did you fall?" Her eyes finally travelled over my clothing. "You are covered in dirt." She paused and looked for an explanation. I was having trouble with speech. My head was shaking slightly as if to deny something. I had no time for this. "Please say something." Her hands were cupping my face as she searched for comprehension.

I took her hands and pulled her with me. "Come. Please" My voice wheezed out and she grabbed her cloak and followed me from her room into the darkness.

"What has happened, Erik?" She was very concerned.

"Not. Now. Please." I couldn't feel my tongue, perhaps that was my problem with speech. Christine was directly behind me and I held her hand tightly, trying to silently apologize for my behaviour. My brain pulsed with the same word over and over. Home. Home. Home.

I only had to make it to the door. The bed would be nicer, but as long as Christine was safe within my walls…

"Please tell me." Christine sobbed behind me and I gritted my teeth and concentrated solely on moving forward. "Why are you not speaking to me? Are you angry with me, Erik? What have I done? I'm sorry I wanted to sing so badly. It was childish of me to want it so much. I should have told you about my fainting. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you. We just had so much else going on that it slipped my mind. Cameron was there to catch me. I didn't even bump my face and I most certainly would have were it not for Cameron. But I feel fine. I don't want you to worry about my health, but right now I am quite worried for yours? Were you attacked? Did you have an attack? Oh my goodness!" She suddenly was shaking my arm to get me to stop or turn. My one good appendage. "You had a seizure! Erik! Tell me! Stop walking!"

"NO!" I yanked her a few more steps as my vision wavered. Home. Home. Home.

"Erik!" She was pulling against my grip and anger flared. She didn't understand that I **_needed_** to get home. I spun awkwardly.

"STOP FIGHTING ME!" I roared in her face and the air seized in my lungs. Christine caught me as I fell against her. I looked up at her stricken face and felt my body begin quaking. "F-f-forgive m-me…"

**Christine**

The seizure was terrible. The entire time he flailed my heart tore apart with the same ferocity. Erik. Erik. Erik…

When he stilled I crawled to him and touched his neck just to assure myself of its frantic beating. I removed the mask from his face and slid it into my pocket. His breathing was ragged and I waited for him to wake. I was sure this was his second seizure tonight. He'd been covered in filth and was late to fetch me. My poor Erik.

I cradled his head in the crook of my arm and cleared the hair from his forehead. I should have known something was very wrong when he came in and kissed me like that. He hadn't even allowed a tiny peck on his cheek earlier, but my worry had been overshadowed by my lust.

Tears filled my eyes and I rested my forehead against Erik's. His warm breath on my face helped me calm myself and I pulled back to study his closed eyes. He looked at peace, and I placed tender kisses to his damp forehead. He usually woke up by now, even if only for a few minutes, and whereas before we'd been lucky to be inside a warm room, we were now both sprawled in the dank, dark tunnel leading down to the lake.

I glanced around us and cursed that we did not have a lantern. Light would be very helpful about now. Erik still had not moved and I wondered if I helped to move him, it might also rouse him.

I knew I shouldn't waste any more time. Make a choice. I studied how Erik was lying and formulated a rough plan. We were closer to my dressing room, but his underground home boasted everything we would need for the next few days. I would have to get him below somehow.

I gathered Erik's good arm and positioned myself beside him. After a few minutes of grunting and pulling, I managed to sit him up and lift him half over my shoulders, but he had not yet regained consciousness. I would have to sling him straight over my back and try not to drop him as I made my way down to our home. This suddenly seemed like an impossible task, but what else could I do? I couldn't just leave him lying here until he woke! Getting colder and colder…

Erik's health was all I was thinking of as I got my feet beneath me and panted a few times. I lifted him with all my power. My own voice echoed through the tunnel as I heaved him over my shoulders with a final grunt. I stood against the wall with him over my shoulders. I was slightly stunned that I'd managed to get him up, and heavily saddened that he still did not wake.

Worries were pummeling my mind, but I shoved them aside and focused on getting Erik home. I flashed on the stimulus for Erik's second attack and sorrow seeped into me. I had caused him to get angry when he was just trying to get home…

I closed my eyes and breathed slowly. I could feel the beat of his heart against my back and for a few strong seconds I managed to carry him down the tunnel, but he was heavier than me and also completely dead weight. I tried to lean against the wall when my legs began shaking, but Erik's heavier weight pulled me over. We tumbled ungracefully to the ground, and I was glad I mostly broke the fall for him. He groaned and I scrambled to right us.

"Erik? Can you hear me?"

"Chris-ss-tine?"

"Oh my darling!" I clutched him to my chest as relief swept through me.

"My arm…" He was choked with pain and I quickly changed his position. He panted hotly against my bosom. "I can't move."

"Not at all!" I now was panicking that I had injured him completely with the fall. "Not even a bit!" My squeak was ear piercing even to me.

"No!" He gasped. "I could move…but I…don't want to…I want to lie here…"

I calmed my racing heart and stroked his hair. "We can rest for a minute, but we should get you home while you're awake. I tried to move you, and I dropped you. I'm sorry."

"Oh my angel…" He breathed out and we held each other quietly for a minute. I gave him an extra thirty seconds, but I honestly was beginning to wonder how long he would stay awake. He usually would sleep for hours after a seizure and he's just had two with no rest at all.

"Time to go, Erik. Let's get up." I held him firmly and he stood on wobbly legs. He took a few slow breaths, as if to concentrate his strength, and then with half his weight on me we made our way down into the dark under world. Our progress was silent but for the shuffle of our feet and clothing and Erik's laboured breath. The lake was only around one more corner when Erik's hands tightened on me. He shook from his arms up his back and I heard his teeth rattle, as my body vibrated with the force of Erik's seizure. It was quick and he gasped as the impulse released him and me. His body slumped and I caught him enough to take him gently to the dirt.

His lashes blinked lazily, but I didn't think he was seeing anything. "Erik?" I peered down at him, holding his face in my hands. "Erik? Can you hear me?" His lips twitched and he sighed.

"I love you…" His eyes closed and the finality of the action had me patting his smooth cheek with a few little smacks.

"Stay awake, Erik! Let's get you home and in bed and then you can sleep for two days." His eyes opened and he stared at me, so I talked as much as I could to keep him with me. "I can't carry you. We already tried that. You have to help me. You have to stand back up. Just help me get to the boat and I can row us across. You can rest in the boat while I get us across. Just get to the boat and then we will be that much closer to home. It's much better than walking around the lake. Just get to the boat and I will get us across. It's around the corner. Don't you recognize where we are. Just a little further and you can rest."

He moaned but it was more in annoyance than pain and we got our feet under us once more. He leaned more heavily against me this second time and thank goodness the boat was close. In less than two minutes we were standing over the boat, where I hesitated in how to get us within. Erik solved it by sliding down my body to the dock.

"Just roll me in." He laid down and seemed to sink into the dock. I hopped into the boat myself and laid the blanket in a good position to buffer his fall and then pulled Erik towards me and tried to ease him down. It was quick and efficient but I'm sure it pained him. He curled against the floor of the boat and I patted his head briefly.

"Try to stay awake." I encouraged and then took up the oars.

I had never rowed this boat before and it took me a few frustrating minutes to get myself organized. The paddles had to dip and pull at the same moment or else the boat began veering in one direction or another. I felt as if I was slightly too petite to be attempting this, but I would not back down. I would get Erik home quickly. I would get us home. I spoke to him intermittently, trying to keep him awake. I would never get him inside if he fell asleep now.

I've always thought of myself as patient with others, but I was not patient with myself. I called myself degrading things as I struggled to master the oars. My husband was quivering with fatigue and pain and I couldn't row the boat to save his life!

The boat and I did not get along. I wanted to break the oars against my knee and throw them to the depths of the lake, but such childish notions would only get me bruised and stranded. When the bottom scraped against something I realized I'd completely missed the dock on the other side, but I'd made it to the bank where Erik and I liked to wade into the water for a swim. It was even closer to the front door than the dock! I hopped out and the chilly water froze me momentarily. Once I regained my breath, I pulled the boat further ashore. I yanked it as far as I could, grunting, sweating and panting, and then I put my hand on Erik's back.

"Darling? It's time to get up now." Erik roused at the sound of my voice and he turned with hollow eyes, like a lost soul looking towards salvation. "Just a few more steps and we will be inside where I can make you some tea and build a nice fire and curl up in bed with you. Just a few more steps. That's all you have to do." Erik sat up with help and stood very shakily. He sloshed ungracefully into the water and gasped just as I had. "Let's get into the house. Big roaring fires and warm drinks. Think warm thoughts." I went on with nonsense and encouragement, talking him through the water and up the bank. His knees gave out a few steps from the door and I cried out as we pitched forward. We were now both wet and dirty and tired and I lay beside him breathing heavily for a few tired heartbeats.

"Erik?" I touched his cheek and he moaned.

"No more, angel…"

"Just a little further…"

"I cannot…just leave me to darkness…"

I felt cruel as I began cooing to him to get up and make it to the door. He seemed unable to deny my every command and though he could not gain his feet, he began crawling to the door on one arm. I let the tears slip down my face as I encouraged him on and we finally, finally, made it into the apartment. I sat down on the floor beside Erik and brushed the hair off his dirty face.

I felt ridiculous, but I purred at him like he was a child, not even sure if he was still conscious. "What a wonderful man you are. You made it all the way home. I'm so proud of you, Erik. You are so strong. You go ahead and have a nice sleep now. I will get you into bed. Don't you worry about a thing. I'm here." His lips curled slightly and I watched his body relax. "And I love you so much." I whispered, but he might have already drifted off.


	74. Chapter 74

**Christine**

The next few hours were very busy. I left Erik by the door, where he was snoring softly in a deep sleep. I had to remove his dirty clothing, wash him, bind his arm and get him into bed. The fire was built in his bedroom and in the kitchen, and water set to boil, before I took a moment to change from my wet clothing. The blankets were effectively torn off my bed and dragged behind me as I left the room.

I set up around Erik's prone body. He had not moved an inch from where I left him, so deep asleep that his chest barely rose and fell. I removed his shoes, pants, and socks and brought the hot water close. His long white feet and legs got a quick wash since they weren't too dirty and I covered his bottom half with one of the blankets. I diligently unbuttoned his jacket, vest and shirt, and his pale chest beckoned my touch. I trailed my fingers down as I leaned to rest my cheek over his heartbeat. After a quick prayer I worked the clothing off his upper body, being careful with the injured arm. His shoulder looked much puffier than it had this morning and I sent another prayer that he would recover well. I gently washed his face, and torso, placing kisses like tiny prayers from my lips to his cold skin. I wondered if I called to him and tried to rouse him, if he would respond to the sound of my voice. The power I had held over him as we fought our way home, with only a few soft words in his ear…

I gazed at his ear as I dipped one of his filthy hands in the basin of water. It was also possible he was too fatigued at this point, pushed beyond human limits. My strong man.

My eyes wandered over his taut physique. The long slash across his stomach made me suddenly think of Raoul, who had just lost his father. It was then I remembered the letter from Monsieur DeChangy. I dried Erik's hand, staring at his naked fingers. His long hands seemed so delicate and fragile that the strength in them was almost unimaginable. I bit my lip as I glanced at Erik's face tilted away from me. He was so strong and yet so fragile. I curled down to his naked collarbone and pressed kisses to the stretched out length of his neck. His pulse was slow now, extremely slow as his body almost hibernated to recover. I held him for a moment, but got back to work with a silent reprimand to myself. Get Erik into bed. No mooning over his naked body. No dreams in your head.

Once he was entirely clean I spread another blanket out beside him and began moving him a little at a time, until his whole body was in the middle of the clean blanket.

I tossed his dirty clothing into the corner to deal with later. Now I needed to pin his injured arm to his chest. I worked diligently, wiping sweat from my forehead as I lifted him enough to slip the fabric around his back again and again. No matter how much I moved him, he did not wake, but having no interruptions allowed me to finish efficiently and pull the blanket up to cover his chest. I sat back only for a second, touching his cheek lightly, before standing and getting a good grip on the blanket. I tugged Erik into his room, pulling him with gentle even movements, until he was next to his bed.

I prepared the bed and glanced around to make sure everything was here. I only hoped my plan to get him in bed worked. One of the kitchen chairs was already sitting in place and I picked up Erik's legs to place his heels on the chair. I bent each leg and pushed the chair closer until the back of his knees were against the seat. I weighed down his blanket covered legs with the biggest book from his bookcase and a few larger pieces of wood. The blanket was draped back over the weights so they wouldn't fall and hit Erik if this didn't work. Then I crouched behind him and slipped my hands beneath him. I tipped him up and maneuvered the small footstool from the living area under his back. This allowed me to let the footstool hold him up as I slid close and got a better grip around his ribcage. I lifted him up and over with one breathless effort and Erik was mostly in his bed.

Triumph surged through me that my idea had worked and I quickly knocked the wood and book off his legs and folded them beneath the turned back sheets. With a few simple moves he was firmly in his bed, warm, snugly tucked in, and safe. I sat gingerly beside him and sighed. His peaceful sleeping face and tousled hair drew my touch with an irresistible urge, and I leaned close to put our foreheads together.

"Our father who art in heaven…"

**Meg**

Cameron was tapping his fingers in time to some song in his head as he stared at the dark stage. We were both in attendance for one of our evening trysts, but this one was proving less thrilling than the others.

"I said I was sorry, Cameron. I don't think sometimes."

He scoffed softly and said, "I have forgiven you for that," but he continued to brood. I rolled my eyes skyward and stifled a sigh. I would have to take control of the situation again.

"Are you going to share what's going on behind those dark eyes?" I slid onto his lap and coiled my arms around his neck.

"Meghan…" He sounded exasperated with me, but his hands came around me and he didn't push me away, not that he ever had, but I still worried he would.

"What's wrong? Don't you trust Erik?"

"What?" He looked bewildered. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I trust him completely. If he thinks it was staged, then it was staged." Now he was looking at me both unimpressed and like I was nuts.

"You think _that_ is what I'm pondering?"

"What else could possibly be on your mind?"

"I am going to ask you to marry me onstage in front of the audience at the end of tomorrow's show."

My mouth gaped in disbelief. I had a thousand questions but no words formulated on my tongue. I was struck dumb. I knew the moment had been coming, but I vehemently did not want a public proposal. How could I say no when I already said yes?

"Nothing to say?" Cameron grinned before nuzzling my neck and kissing my jaw. "I love when you are speechless. It does not happen very often…"

He thought I was happy and as his lips continued to caress me, working their way to my open mouth, I was happy. I could endure the proposal if he never stopped kissing me like this.

**Christine**

After praying for Erik, I began tidying up. I pilled all of the dirty clothing in my bathroom for another time. I washed my face and unpinned my braid, stripped off the dress I'd hastily thrown on and changed into my nightgown. I carried the chair back into the kitchen, put away the wood and book, emptied the wash basin and started checking all of the cupboards. Erik would need to stay in bed for a few days and our supply of food was quite low. I made myself some tea and sat with a heaving sigh at the kitchen table.

I stared at nothing for a few minutes while I blew on my tea. I wondered if Erik needed medical attention. Was his shoulder going to heal properly now that we'd jarred it again? Did I even pin it in the correct position? What had triggered his first seizure? How had he managed to move himself afterwards to come fetch me? Where did Erik keep the money? How was I to purchase food for us?

A giant yawn stretched my face and I left my tea, deciding that bed and my husband's warm body were far more appealing. All these questions would be better answered with a good night's sleep. I crawled into bed beside Erik and he did not move. I pressed a kiss to his temple and curled next to him, trying not to be in his way but be as close as possible.

I must have slept, because when I woke the room was darker, the fire burned down and I felt much better, but Erik had not moved. He was in the exact position I left him in, and after calling his name softly a few times, I quickly put my ear to his chest. His heart thumped slowly along and tears filled my eyes.

What was wrong? Why didn't he respond to me? Why didn't he wake? He always woke after other seizures.

My panic was making ice and fire boil in my body and I leapt from bed and raced to Erik's bathroom with one hand over my mouth. I barely made it, before I was retching on my hands and knees. My back arched in waves as my stomach twisted over and over, trying to empty itself even when there was nothing there. Sweat broke out over my skin as I panted and tried to stop this terrible onslaught, but with another quiver my body twisted and I gagged and coughed as Erik slept innocently behind me.

I sagged against the wall as the sickness passed and mellowed into cold tremors. Was I pregnant? I had effectively forgotten about it with Erik's seizures, but now it was thrust into the forefront of my mind once more. Was this just my over active worry for Erik or was I pregnant? Tears collected and I curled up in a tiny ball a few feet away from the mess I had made.

What would we do? How could we care for a baby when Erik needed so much of my attention and care? As thrilling as the idea of creating a child in our image, I was more frightened at this point. What of Erik's health? What of Erik's anger? Would he be able to contain himself with a child around? Would our sweet child endure the full onslaught of Erik's madness?

I sat up angrily at my own traitorous thoughts. I was certain that Erik could learn to master his temper if he would only share with me how he is feeling, instead of bottling everything inside, afraid to reveal his whole heart to me. I wished I had someone to speak to. Erik was still unconscious…

Erik…? I dropped my face into my hands and cried all over again as I recalled last night and how he'd dragged his poor body up the bank to his front door. What if he never woke and I was left to fend for myself? I clasped my hands together and pressed them to my forehead as I prayed feverishly for my husband's health and for my possible health concern. After some silent supplications I was able to pull myself together.

I wiped my face and got back to work. The fires needed tending and I started a soup for when Erik would wake. I filled the wash basin and brought it to Erik's bathroom to scrub the floor clean. When that task was done, I changed my clothes and had a small breakfast. The squares I made yesterday had turned out well and I indulged in a second one when my stomach accepted the first without complaint.

I paced the floor by Erik's bedside for a useless half an hour and then decided on my course of action. Erik didn't seem to be waking up, even when I called to him and touched him. I was loathe to sit around waiting for a sign of his wellness and thought that any action was better than waiting.

I readied myself to leave the apartment. I set up the table beside Erik with water and two of the strawberry squares and a note explaining where I was. I didn't like thinking that he would wake while I was gone, but it was possible. Better he be awake then for me to return to his silent sleep state.

The lantern lit the way for me as I traversed the tunnels built by my husband. I knew there were tunnels that led everywhere, but I was aiming to be smart about this and took the path I knew best, direct to my dressing room. Once there I unearthed the letter from Monsieur DeChangy.

It read.

_Dear Christine,_

_My health is failing me and before I die I must right the wrongs I have done in this life. Your father and I were friends for many years before he met your mother and on his deathbed he asked me only to take care of you and instead I tried to be rid of you. Please accept my humblest apologies for the grief I have caused you. My son has left the comforts of home for a life in the Navy and with this you have unwittingly repaid me the grief I have burdened you with. Though his selfless action made me very proud, I wondered if he left only to purge you from his system. He thought himself in love with you, and I tried to kill that love within him. My punishement is that I will die never seeing his face again. When he returns, I hope that you will give him another chance at friendship._

_I am_ _happy to hear that you were married. I feel as if with that action your father has in part forgiven me for my callousness where you are concerned. May you have many years of happy marriage and only healthy babes. I do not know much of your husband, but his loyalty to you and your safety is unparalleled. _

_Though my wish for a happy future is given with all sincerity, I do worry that things are not always as they seem. I have put away a tidy sum of money for you if you ever have need of it. You need only to ask Raoul to look into my saving accounts and my bank manager will provide you both with the details. The password for the account is your father's name. You are the only one privy to this information. If you need the money it is yours._

_I feel the unburdening of my soul as I write this and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive Raoul and I for causing such turmoil in your life. I imagine you would have been happy married to my son, but it was not meant to be. Take care of yourself, Christine. I join your father in heaven._

_Sincerely yours,_

The signature was illegible but I saw the large D and C of his surname. I sat on the bed with another sigh. I was in need of money and now a "tidy sum" had dropped into my lap. As easy as it would be to take this money, I did not want to seek out Raoul before speaking to Erik of this. There was another tidy sum of money owed to me.

I checked my appearance in the mirror before leaving to find Cameron. He was discussing music with Reyer as musicians filtered into the auditorium. I sat and waited for Cameron, but he turned to me before I could even fix my skirts around me.

"Christine." He smiled hugely. "Rehearsal is only for the orchestra today. Did no one tell you?"

"I knew, it's alright. I actually came to speak with you." Reyer was giving me an odd look and I tried not to wonder what he and everyone else thought of me. I had enough to think on without giving myself extra worries. Cameron led me to the office and as I was sitting he could not hold back any longer.

"Where is Erik?" His brow was furrowed in concern and I debated telling him everything just to unburden myself.

"He is working." I knew I could not reveal Erik's illness without breaking his confidence.

"With his injured arm?" Cameron looked shocked now and I looked away to hide my frustration.

"You know how stubborn he is." I shrugged and hoped he would drop the subject.

"Do I ever." Cameron laughed and though my stomach twisted with hatred at my subterfuge, I knew it was the only course of action. Erik would be better soon and none of this would matter anyway.

"Cameron," I began. "I've come to speak to you of my contract."

"Oh?" He looked intrigued and sat back to listen.

"I have not signed one with the new management," I gave a quick smile. "But according to my old contract with the previous managers, I was to be paid on the first of every month for my service. Unfortunately it has been overlooked the last few months." I knew this was because I was tied to Erik and my salary could be seen as a moot point since half the opera's funds were available to Erik, but now that I had need of the money and Erik was unconscious…

"Have you not been paid at all?" Cameron looked genuinely shocked and apologetic.

"Not a dime."

"Did you ask Erik? Why are you coming to only me with this?" He was rummaging through the desk drawers as he posed his questions and then he moved onto the filing cabinet.

"I uhh…want to spend the money on a gift for Erik and didn't want him to know."

Cameron laughed as he pulled out a few files. "A late wedding present?"

"A birthday present actually. His day is fast approaching and I want to make sure there is time to have his gift made."

"I am happy to be your accomplice." He trailed off as he read one of the papers in his hands. "Just wanted to clarify how much we are paying you." He waved my contract in the air. "Every penny well deserved." He wheeled to the small safe behind the desk and produced a few stacks of bills, slapping them on the table with a grin. "Did you want all we owe you or will a portion suffice?"

"One month should be good for now," I demurred. "But I do expect the rest of my earnings," I said just to be certain.

"Make sure you tell your husband after his birthday that he has overlooked your wages. I'm sure he did not even think of it."

We parted with Cameron being none the wiser to Erik's actual state of discord and I had a huge stack of bills concealed in my cloak. I stepped out into the daylight and blinked madly. I was becoming unaccustomed to bright sunlight with how much time I spent below ground.

I quickly found my bearings and headed off to the market to purchase some much needed food. With that more important task taken care of I draped both bags over one arm and pushed open the door to the jewelry store. My husband needed a wedding band for his naked fingers.

After a few words to the jeweler he had me looking at a tray of chunky masculine rings. I was not impressed by any of the overdone glittering rings on display and I shook my head in disappointment. My gaze wandered over everything in the display cases, necklaces, bracelets, ear bobs, even some carvings done in what appeared to be bone. I spied a small display of older looking metals, the burnished look and relaxed feel of them drew my attention. Erik was not one for glamorous shiny jewelry and as my eyes darted over the medieval looking bracelets and necklaces, I caught sight of a ring.

It was a dull golden metal with a stone as black as night nestled in its claws. I asked to see it with a tiny flutter in my chest. The claws that held the stone in place were three on each side and wrapped around the thick ring in a symmetrical braid to unravel and reach up on opposite sides. The creases of the braid were blackened with age and I wondered how old the ring was. It was meant for a man, I was certain, even though it was a little small. Erik had slender fingers so I was not worried it would not fit. It was a strong ring, thick but not too thick, and the stone was rounded beautifully and polished to perfection. The surface was so smooth and glossy, and a black so deep that the only reflection in its surface was one pin point of light, like a star alone in the night sky. I slid the ring onto my finger to hold it up and I could imagine it upon my husband's pale hand. Beautiful but not too extravagant, and theatrical but not gregarious.

"I will take this one." My heart thrilled with happiness as the jeweler put it in a wooden box and part of me wanted to give it to Erik right away. I wanted him wearing my ring immediately, but I recalled that he may not even be awake when I returned home. My thoughts made my feet move quickly and I made it back to the opera house faster than I thought possible. I wished I had a key for the entrance at the side of the opera but instead had to walk through the halls to my dressing room. Just as I was wondering how I would explain to someone why I was carrying so much food to my dressing room, I ran smack into Madame Giry.

She steadied me and with one glance she assessed everything. "So he does live below us." She nodded to herself and I was not a good enough actress to defer her assumptions. "Though he must have a better way to travel below than traipsing through the halls for everyone to see." She gave me a look like I was a silly child and I straightened my spine. I was a married woman caring for my husband.

"I have no time for idle talk, if you will excuse me please." I tried to brush past her but she was fast on my heels.

"How is his shoulder? Have you applied the paste? Did he allow you?" She seemed genuinely concerned for Erik and persisted in following me, so I slowed and allowed her to walk with me.

"He may have reinjured his shoulder…" I started and she tore into me.

"Can you not keep that man from causing himself harm? That imbecile should know he cannot work in this state. You should know he cannot! A good wife would keep him bedridden. Has it swelled? You should ice it and make sure he does not move the joint."

I wisely kept silent, not wanting to say anything rude in anger or give anything away. Madame Giry did not like Erik and though he saved her, she still had no qualms in calling him names and putting down how I took care of him.

"Christine? May I speak frankly with you?" She stopped me at my door.

"Of course." I saw no reason to stay out in the hall and opened my dressing room door to admit her.

"I want you to tell Erik that I will do as he asks. If there is anything he wishes for me to watch for or if he wants me to keep an eye on anyone. Please tell him that he can be assured of my tact and aid. Will you tell him, Christine? I tried to make him aware of this…but him and I seem to abrade one another."

I had a feeling she abraded everyone, but took in all she was telling me. I put my bags down gently and decided, after glancing at her, that she could be trusted. "Erik is not well." I'm sure she read the hurt on my face as I told her. "He is in bed and I need to return to him. Madame…do you think…if I need help, would you come?" I did feel like a child then, unable to deal with my life and needing aid. I did manage to keep tears from wetting my eyes.

"I will come if you need me, dear girl." She smiled softly at me and patted my hand. "Go take care of your phantom." She left me alone in my room, as if she knew it was how I passed into Erik's world.

I gathered my purchases and began my descent. I tried to think positive and tell myself that Erik would be awake when I arrived and I would have to keep the ring a secret which would not be easy for me. I hummed absently as I descended deeper and deeper, trying not to note the places along the path where we had struggled the night before. The door opened to silence and I called his name softly with hope buried in my chest. There was no answer and I left my bags at the bedroom door to check on him.

Erik was still sound asleep, nothing disturbed on the table beside him and the covers undisturbed above him. Sorrow and pain echoed inside me and I brushed the hair back from his forehead. What would we do? I crumpled to the ground next to his bed and took his hand in mine.

"Our father who art in heaven…"

**Erik**

The dark surrounds me. No escape. No light. Blood and screams and pain…

The dark surrounds me…

Voices…whispering and hiding in the shadows. A large hand grabbing my arm and hauling me into the light. No mercy for the weak…no mercy…

"You have disappointed me, Deathbringer." The Shah spoke from before me, a blade balanced between his hands. "The deaths must be spectacular." His eyes glittered with evil thoughts and they echoed in my breast as I watched him approach. "Blood. I want to see their blood. So much blood that people turn away…" The blade flashed to me and my chest was opened with uncanny precision, slicing down one side to sever my breast in two. The pain was so slight that I knew just how sharp his knife was. He could kill me with that blade. "Blood…" He gazed at my naked bloodied flesh. "It runs in beautiful patterns as it escapes the heart and body." He looked in my eyes. "I give you the gift of their life force, their blood. I want you to bathe in it…" He was mad. He would make me insane. "Listen to the sound of my voice, Erik…"

The pit was waiting for me. I felt hollow as I glanced above to acknowledge the audience and my master. I spoke, but my words sounded foreign. A woman entered. She held a sword. I had no weapon. I crouched as instinct took over and she swung the blade with surprising skill. I stayed out of her reach for the first minute, but it was enough for me to tell that she would fatigue quickly, much faster than I. A confident smirk twisted my malformed lips and the woman shuddered as she redoubled her efforts in fending me off. Not that I was trying very hard to finish her. I let her swing her heavy weapon at me for a few more minutes and when she took too long adjusting her stance, I pounced. I covered one of her hands over the hilt, to keep the weapon down, and the other hand took her neck.

A rush of pure hatred swelled within me as my hand squeezed her throat. She choked and forgot her sword as she clawed at my hand. This was too easy…

I felt dizzy...

The blood…it splattered my skin with warmth, the only warmth available to me. It slicked over me with heated life…the only life available to me…

It pumped through me with increasing vigor and my muscles flexed against my bindings as he approached me with the knife.

"Do you know how valuable you are?"

The darkness surrounds me…


	75. Chapter 75

_**Author's note: Hello? Anybody still interested in my story? I must apologize to everyone for the long delay in updating. I am in the middle of relocating my little family to a new home so things have been INSANE for months, and now with Christmas on our doorsteps... yikes...**_

_**I swear to you all that I WILL finish my story...it just might take a long time...**_

_**Maybe if you are still interested in reading this you could leave me a little review to let me know you are happy about the update? :-)**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**Christine**

My heart felt like a hollow stone in my chest when I left Erik again only so I could thrust myself before a staring audience and perform like a trained monkey. I physically ached in the region of my heart as I climbed up through the tunnels to the unreal world above. Leaving him the first time to go shopping made me feel bad enough, but it was necessary to fill our empty cupboards. Now I was sitting in my dressing room having my hair done for me, and I felt like a horrid wife. I didn't have any answers for what was wrong with Erik, and I was failing my husband miserably, leaving him unprotected and alone.

Tears were perilously close to the surface, and my tired eyes already had layers of makeup applied, so I glared at my reflection and gave myself a silent pep talk to keep from coming undone, again.

You have done everything you alone could do for Erik. Now you must see to the job you are paid so well for, a job that just helped you provide for your unconscious husband. People come to see you sing. Erik and Papa taught you to sing, so you will get on that stage and make them both proud. Perform to the best of your abilities, give the crowd their money's worth, and then run back to Erik's side.

My head jerked as they twisted my hair into place and I barely noticed. The issue with singing was I usually enjoyed displaying my talent. I thought of Papa or Erik and my love for them gave me a lightness and sweetness to my voice as it soared through the theater. But my love was silent and I was not feeling very much like performing. Right this moment I wanted to behave more like Carlotta and vocalize my extreme disinterest in the performance, and let her take the lead, so I could sit at Erik's bedside waiting for a sign of health.

I went over every moment I had tended for Erik, slathering his wound with Antoinette's paste and rewrapping his arm. I even soaked some garments in the lake water and pressed the cold soaked fabric to his bare shoulder intermittently. Most of my time was spent praying with his hand clasped in mine, and unless I was staring into his unmoving face and tenderly combing his hair back from his forehead, I spent the rest of my time in the kitchen. I fixed a special soup for his recovery and ingredients for all his favorite teas were set out and easily accessible, with a full hot kettle nestled over the low fire in the kitchen. The fire in his bedroom was well stoked; the blankets piled high, and pillows mounded on the floor in case he fell out. There was a new note on the table beside Erik, telling him where I was and to stay abed, and that I loved him dearly.

What else could I possibly do? He rarely accepted outside help, he did not like doctors, yet it was approaching an entire twenty four hour period of complete stillness in Erik's face.

There was a knock at my dressing room door and I buried the urge to cry, fighting for control as I bit my cheek. It was time to be Madame Karan.

I was distracted as I sang because I kept wondering if Erik had possibly woken. It was certainly not my finest performance, but the audience still exploded with approval at the end. Piangi kissed my hand and bowed with me and I honestly wanted to run off the stage and all the way down to Erik's hidden home to see if he was awake. Cameron wheeled onto the stage and turned to the crowd and I wondered what was going on. This was the first time I had ever seen him on the stage.

"Good evening everyone." He started when the people quieted down. "I hope you have enjoyed our show." There was a smattering of random cheers and claps. "I come before you tonight to make you all a part of a special occasion. Meghan?"

He looked over his shoulder and so did I. Meghan's eyes were huge as she gracefully whisked herself to his side. She had changed from her costume though she still wore her ballet slippers on her feet. The way he looked up at her with warm eyes and took her hand made me realize what was happening.

"We want to share our joy with everyone. Mademoiselle Meghan Giry, will you do me a very great honor and be my wife?"

Meg nodded dumbly, not taking her eyes off of Cameron, and he slid the same glittering ring I'd seen before, onto her hand. I knew Meg liked the limelight while dancing, but I had thought she would prefer a more private moment for such a special occasion. Upon closer inspection, her smile was tight and though her eyes beamed with love, she was uncomfortable with his public proposal.

The entire cast surged forward to congratulate the couple as the audience clapped and cheered themselves hoarse. Madame Giry stood off to one side watching the crowd with a satisfied air. I made my way to the couple and pressed a kiss to Meg's cheek.

"Congratulations sister." She clung to me tightly, lost for words in the sea of people, and I took an extra few seconds to hold her close and let her find her voice.

"I can't believe he did this to me." She sighed into my ear and I squeezed her.

"At least he made it short and concise. We will talk soon." I kissed Cameron's cheek as well and he looked past me.

"Is Erik not here tonight?"

"His arm was paining him. He stayed home." Lying was becoming far too easy. "He will be upset he missed your announcement." Cameron smiled for me and shrugged before moving on to the other well-wishers. Since everyone was occupied I took the opportunity to make haste.

I stripped the costume off in my dressing room and donned my simple clothing. The cloak was tossed over my shoulders, the lantern lit, and I moved through the mirror with a single-mindedness that brought me home in record time.

Erik still slept. Frustrated tears filled my eyes and I collapsed to my knees, tired of waiting. My hands moved impatiently over his face and hair, dragging him to the edge of the bed.

"Erik, darling? It's time to wake up. You have slept for long enough. I've made you some delicious soup. You need to eat something to keep up your strength, my love…" I trailed off as tears spilled down my cheeks. He was not moving. Not even to the call of my voice and my rough hands. I buried my face in the blanket to weep and pray as my hands clutched to the covers over his chest. "Please Lord, bring him back to me. I cannot live without him. I need him. I need him…I need his eyes to pierce me, his voice to soothe me, his hands to love me. I don't want to live without him…I need him…" I blubbered and carried on until I felt ashamed at my weakness. I heaved a trembling sigh and removed myself from Erik to stand on shaky knees and stare vacantly at my unmoving husband.

Erik's face suddenly twitched and he moaned in his sleep. "Chris-ss-ss-tine…"

"I'm here, Erik!" My heart pounded as I ducked down to his face to watch for further proof of him waking. His eyelashes remained tightly shut and I realized he was talking in his sleep.

"D-darkness …the dark…it-it…there's no light…where are you…" His head turned on the pillow and his face contorted with a snarl. "Your light is mine to keep…" His voice wavered and he whispered like a child. "I've gone too far…please…please…save me…"

I called to him, shook him lightly, patted his cheek and pinched his arm, until I was pacing Erik's bedside once more. Sitting still was much too difficult for me.

Erik would mutter nonsense and twitch, but no matter how I tried, he would not wake! I had to move around and keep busy or I would dissolve into helpless tears and be of absolutely no use to my husband. As I paced, his words came less frequent and after a last few mumbled syllables he was dragged back down into whatever strange heavy sleep state he inhabited. I slowed my pacing to stare at Erik's once more still features and my nails bit into my palms as my fists tightened. I was already _entirely_ useless to my husband!

I didn't know if his arm would be alright the way it was bound. I didn't know why he wasn't waking after almost twenty four hours of sleep. I didn't know if he was gripped with nightmares while I stood useless to wake him, useless in every way. I didn't know anything at all!

It was time for bed and still Erik had shown no signs of waking. The clock ticked on, unaware that for me time was actually at a standstill. I was worried and frazzled and as my last resort I folded back the blankets to climb astride his limp body, to try to wake him with my whole body rousing his. Our hearts beat in time as I curled to his neck and whispered to him, my hands stroking his arms and chest, neck and hair. "Erik, my love, I miss you. I miss you so much." My lips brushed his face as I spoke to him. "I miss your smile and your voice. I miss your hands in motion. I miss the feel of your hands on my skin."

I felt childish as I tried to entice him awake with my love. Was he trapped within his mind? Did something happen during his seizures to keep him from waking? I spread my hands on his cheeks and stared at his closed eyes, willing them to open and show me their shadowed depths. "I need you…" I kissed his mouth softly and my eyes fluttered closed at the familiar feel of his lips against mine. I moved onto his sunken cheek, repeating my mantra of need as I kissed his temple, forehead, eyelids, smooth cheek and those rough malformed lips one last time. I lost myself in the scent of my husband, the taste of his skin, in my overwhelming love for him, but when I resurfaced he was unchanged.

I sighed in disappointment, flicking tears from my eyes, as I reached out to pluck his mask off my pillow. The molded plaster slid onto his face with some extra pressure and I jiggled it to make sure it was in the right spot. I knew Erik would not want anyone, especially someone like Mme Giry, to not only know he was indisposed, but to see his face as well. I hated having to make this decision without his consent, but I was going to make myself ill with worry. Nadir would certainly come, but he was much further away and probably preparing for bed. Antoinette was close and would at least be able to assuage some of my fears and make sure his arm was alright. I scampered up through the tunnels and went straight to Mme Giry's room.

Her hair was unbound, hairbrush in hand, when she answered the door and for a moment I saw a younger Madame, almost exactly like Meg. My nerves softened and I asked her to please get her cloak and follow me. She quickly twirled her hair into an efficient bun and did as I said.

I was very nervous to be sharing Erik's secret with someone, but she said she would help and this was one way I could use her help. She already knew we lived below and it wasn't as if she would try to find her way down otherwise. I took her through the mirror in my dressing room and led the way down, holding the lantern as high as I could so she wouldn't stumble.

She spoke very little and when I knew it was safer to speak I began telling her why I was bringing her down. "Erik fell and his shoulder was very red and puffy. I bound it to his body but I'm not sure it will be enough? You will know more once you see. I don't want to cause his arm to heal poorly."

"Is he in pain?"

"No. He is asleep."

"Did you drug him then?" She asked casually and I stumbled to a stop.

"Pardon me?" I was shocked she would accuse _me_ of what _she_ did to him. I took a deep breath to pause, shake my head, start walking again and speak rationally. "Erik is unconscious. He fell and hasn't woken." It was the simplest answer.

"Oh, I see." She stayed silent and I was sort of grateful for the quiet. Having her come to check Erik made me feel better even though her prejudice thoroughly annoyed me. She would tell me not to worry once she had checked him…

"Here we are." I started pushing open the door, but hesitated, as I wondered if this was a horrid mistake. Erik was _unconscious_. "Now, Madame, I must ask for complete secrecy regarding this home we share. We do not bother anyone down here and I do not wish for anyone to be bothering us down here. Am I clear?" I glared at her sternly, angry at myself for not doing this in my dressing room.

"Perfectly." Antoinette clipped with a peeved roll of her eyes. "Let's see our patient."

I took her straight into our bedroom, pausing only for a second to see if Erik's position had changed. He was as I'd left him, one arm laying over the blankets, white mask gleaming over half his slack, sleeping visage. I stared at his split appearance, willing him awake with the force of my thoughts, while Antoinette turned back the blanket to his waist and inspected my bindings. She made a few adjustments and loosened the bottom ones a little before flipping the covers back over Erik. She stared down at his masked face for a moment and then swiftly turned to usher me from the room.

"You did a remarkable job, Christine. You have an affinity for nursing. Now, is there something warm to drink down here?"

Entertaining Madame Giry and her stares, as she fully took in the living area of our underground home, were not as easy as I thought they would be. She kept asking for details on how Erik got the piano down here, carved this cavern, provided water to the home, and many other nosy things, and lastly how he injured himself. Most I did not know the answer to, thankfully, and as for his injury, I stuck to the simple story that I'd found him here unconscious, his shoulder at an awkward angle, with no clue how he'd come to be. I tried turning the tables and asking her questions about Meghan's engagement.

"You must be thrilled with Meg's engagement. Cameron is such a wonderful man."

"Of course." She answered vaguely.

"He loves her very much," I gushed, and she finally snorted.

"He is desperate, and Meghan has her head in the clouds. She could have found someone fully functional, but this one is rich and titled, and has wooed Meg into believing his vows of love. At least he can afford to take care of her." She sipped at her tea and I could hardly believe her harsh assessment of their love. "Did the broken bookcase have something to do with Erik's injury?"

"No." I had no elaboration for her on that, so I tried to turn the conversation to her again. "Are you well acquainted with Erik's father, Nadir?"

"Yes." By her arched brow she knew what I was trying to do. "Does Erik often lose consciousness?" She deftly changed the topic back and I was left floundering behind my teacup.

"He did lose conscious after he was hit with those falling backdrops."

She made a pinching face and then looked away from me and I hid my smile in my cup. Silence stretched in the kitchen and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Madame did not seem worried about Erik's recovery, which meant he would recover and we would cherish every second we had together, every moment of love and music. When was the last time I heard Erik play his music?

With no need to make conversation I let my brain wander and found the moment I was looking for. The last time Erik played for me was the morning we spent in the glass encased music room, creating soul inspiring song as the sun rose and our love came together with cataclysmic effect.

I sighed at that long ago morning, only a week since. "I'm so tired." I whined lightly and Madame reacted as any mother ought to.

She rose smoothly and started cleaning up the kitchen. There wasn't much to do except clean our dishes but she did it and I did not try to stop her. When she dried off her hands and hung the towel she turned with purpose. "Why don't you take me back upstairs and then go lie next to your husband. Try not to worry, dear. He will wake. He is too stubborn not to. Sometimes the body works its healing powers in mysterious ways." She patted my shoulder as I rose and I brought her back to the world above.

**Erik**

The darkness…

Thick, all consuming, foul and unappealing… I wanted light…I yearned for my light.

_My_ light? When have I ever possessed light?

I am made of darkness. I _am_ the darkness…

But where has my light gone? Did I lose it somewhere? Is it gone forever? Has it abandoned me?

No…

I could feel…warmth. Light was out of my reach, just beyond my grasp…but the warmth was real and tangible... I _am_ warm. There has to be some light… Why can I not see?

The darkness clung desperately to me, like a living, breathing cloak of black, unwilling to let go of me as I struggled in its velvet embrace.

Let me go!

A glimpse of shining light…golden light of heaven…

No…

Golden eyes…an angel kneeling…a beautiful woman crying…

Christine!

My eyes opened and I blinked at the subtle glow of candles around me. I was in my bed. I gave myself a few minutes to assess and came to the conclusion that my wife must be tending to me. One arm was bound tightly and I seemed to be undressed down to my undergarments, but tucked warmly into bed.

My heart wrenched with love for Christine and I tried to look around the room and find her. She was not within, but I heard movement near the door and watched as my angel floated in carrying a tray before her. My eyes were too absorbed in her beautiful familiar face to wonder what she carried and as her eyes met mine, they widened, and the tray was dashed to the ground with nary a care.

"ERIK!" She squealed with ear piercing joy and she was suddenly upon me with a flounce of skirts. She leapt on the bed to hold me fast in an embrace of arms and legs, pressing kisses all over my face as tears dripped from her eyes. "Oh, my love. My darling. I love you. I love you." Her lips summoned kisses and vows as if they were one and the same, and I was too shocked by her reaction to think of my own, so I basked greedily in her love until she demanded a response from me. "Can you answer me, Erik?" Her hands bracketed my face as her eyes shone into mine. "You've slept for so long. I was so worried." My body felt weak and tired, so I tried to use my voice to soothe her.

"Christine. My love." I croaked with heartfelt longing, but her words suddenly made sense. "Worried?" I cleared my throat. "How long have I slept?"

Her face darkened, and I finally noticed the tired bruises under her eyes as the golden orbs morphed into wounded windows of light. I tried to put my arms around her, so intent on healing her hurt that I forgot that one arm was bound. Only the one arm complied with shaking muscles and I held her tight to me as she spoke. "You slept for almost two days. Tonight would have been two whole days."

Two nights of darkness…I tensed as I realized I could remember many dark distorted dreams from the last two days. I shuddered against Christine and stared at the ceiling of my chamber.

I was with my light. The dark released me…

Christine and I embraced like we'd been parted for years and I could feel the steady drumming beat of her heart, echoing within me. The heat and life that thrummed within her was mine to protect, mine to preserve, mine to keep forever. I felt ragged and singed with memories of my past, but I tried to push the evil thoughts away and buried my grotesque face into Christine's curls, like a child hiding from the monster.

God help me, I never wanted to leave Christine's light again.

**Christine**

My joy was so intense I wanted to cry and sob until I fell asleep in his arms, listening to his heart, but I had to be a good wife. I already felt as if I'd failed him and had no intention of doing so again. Erik needed me to be strong. I grabbed the mint flavoured water from his side table, to distract my urge for tears, and helped him take a drink. Sleeping for so long would have left his mouth dry and his body dehydrated. He said thank you and I knew I should get off of him, but first I gave him a few little kisses on his smooth cheek. When he turned towards me and sought my lips, heat pooled in my stomach and shot through my body making me limp with ecstasy. I held back a moan of sheer delight as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. To have him kissing me again was pure undiluted bliss, a sweet taste of heaven on earth. I melted into him and we kissed with loving abandon to abolish the fear that lingered in the air.

He finally turned his mouth away, but clutched me as best he could with his one arm. "I had a seizure?"

I nodded against his neck. "Two seizures, perhaps three if you count a very short episode." He sighed against my hair and I closed my eyes in overwhelming gratitude. "There is much to speak of, Erik, but for now I just want you to relax…and perhaps…hold me?"

"With pleasure…" He sighed again as we rolled side by side. His eyes, how had I gone two days without seeing those soulful eyes? His eyes were drowning me with reigned in emotion and we kissed one more time, a hard breathless press of our mouths. So many words hovered on my lips, as we pulled apart, but I didn't want to voice any of them right this second. I only wanted to gaze at Erik, awake, alive and whole. I wanted to keep touching his face and marveling that he was blinking at me, smiling bashfully at me, trailing his fingers down my cheek and into my hair to pull me close for a kiss to my brow. I sent my silent thanks to God for answering my prayers and returning Erik to me.

We didn't move for quite some time, relishing the other's embrace, and finally Erik asked. "What was on your tray?"

"Oh, no!" I shot out of bed and surveyed the mess. My shoulders slumped forward, but when Erik moved with a muffled groan and sat up in bed, a silly smile curled my lips. What did a little mess matter with Erik sitting up and surveying things himself with his shadowed grey eyes?

"I could help you?" He pushed his legs from the covers and my hands shot out.

"NO! No, don't you dare, Erik. I want you to stay in bed for now. You've been through so much. It will just take a few minutes to clean up and then I will bring you some food. Just relax, please? I will work quickly." I flashed him a smile, a genuine heart-felt smile, and then got to work.

He propped the pillow up behind him and leaned back to watch me. His eyes never left me. I could feel the weight of their gaze as I sopped up the water and picked up the broken ewer. I glanced at him once and couldn't help smiling cheerfully. It was so nice to see him sitting up. He smiled back but his eyes held a distance in them. I turned back to my task and reminded myself how much we had to talk about.

"I am infinitely grateful to be back in your presence." He spoke softly and just the sound of his voice warmed my heart.

"I am very thankful you have woken. I was not sure what more to do for you." I piled everything on the tray and made to leave, but I had to look at my beloved one last time before leaving his presence, as if to solidify that he was awake. Our gazes locked and my smile curved lovingly. His eyes gleamed with a flash of tears and I told him I would be right back. I needed to organize myself and not dissolve into senseless sobs. I prepared a tray of food for my husband and changed into my nightclothes. First we would speak of his seizures since it usually helped him remember events. Then I needed to tell him about Raoul and Monsieur DeChangy's generosity, Meghan's engagement and Antoinette's visit to his home.

I took in his food and fussed around him, even stirring his soup to cool it down, until he bade me sit still.

"You do not need to feed me, Christine. I am no invalid. The seizures only leave me temporarily tired and forgetful, and my shoulder…" My gaze traveled down his wrapped torso and I saw him try to wiggle his arm. "Is this really necessary?" He was looking over his bound arm as if trying to figure out how to get it off, and I sat beside him on the bed.

"Leave it for now, Erik. Much has happened."

**Erik**

Christine talked. The dulcet tones of her sweet melodic voice affected me like a siren call and I was in a state of suspended bliss. I was so happy to have her voice in my ears, instead of the screams from my mind, that the actual words may not have transmitted fully to my brain. I gazed at her while she spoke and I mindlessly ate mouthfuls of the chicken soup, pungent with garlic, that she had set before me. When she told me of my seizures, and apologized for causing one in the tunnel, I had to interrupt.

"How did you manage to get me home?" As if I wasn't already awed by her…

She blushed and looked away from me. "I tried to carry you first, and when that didn't work, I coaxed you onward with the sound of my voice." She met my eye with tears shimmering. "I felt awful for pushing you forward when you begged me to let you rest, but we got you home. It's probably why you slept so long."

I had fragmented memories of that journey, but before I could tear them from the soil of my mind, she went on. After resting beside me for the first night, she had left the underground, and me here, to go above to fetch food for us and to perform in last night's show.

"You found my safe?" I asked with surprise and she shook her finger at me.

"No, but I should know where the money is kept for emergencies, Erik. I cashed in on my forgotten wages." She shrugged delicately and after a stunned moment, I apologized for overlooking her well-deserved income.

"I will set up an account for you." I promised, hating that I had overlooked her salary.

Christine appeared unconcerned with her well earned money, but she had more to say. Slowly and clearly she began relaying to me that Raoul DeChangy had approached her and delivered a letter from his deceased father.

"Did he recognize you?" I asked carefully, holding back the burst of sudden anger, and she shook her head.

"No, it was very strange to speak to him. I could tell he felt he should know me, especially since his father knew me, but he was preoccupied with his father's death. I don't think he will think of me again. He looked devastated."

I kept from saying anything because part of me wanted to demand she stay away from him. Did she honestly care that Raoul was devastated? Did she still trust that insufferable letch?

She was explaining about a letter from senior DeChangy, and I suddenly felt a flood of shame as she explained about the funds left for her in secrecy. She still trusted _me_! Regardless that I was often violent and reacted poorly to any surprising information, she still trusted me to react properly, and not like a maniac. Of course she would still trust Raoul. His attack on her was mediocre compared to my assaults on her person. Colourful details of my violence against Christine replayed themselves in my mind and I watched her speaking to me with her open face and loving demeanor. She still loved me...

I felt like a milksop, but my heart melted as I gazed at her in complete adoration while she recalled Meghan's engagement for me.

"She did not like how Cameron did it in front of everyone, but she looked very happy when their eyes were joined."

"Antoinette wanted the public proposal." Now when had I learned that…

"Really?" Christine looked thoughtful for a second and then very guilty. "I have one more thing to tell you." Her head ducked down and she wouldn't look at me as she told of running into Antoinette with her grocery bags and Madame assuming what that meant, and that she brought her down to check on me.

"What?" I almost dropped my soup spoon.

"You were unconscious and I wasn't sure your arm would heal properly and I was so worried, Erik." Her wounded eyes begged for forgiveness. "She wanted me to tell you that she will do whatever you ask of her. She's afraid, Erik. There is something she is not telling us, but she wants your loyalty and in return is willing to give hers." Everything Christine was saying I somehow knew, but to hear her repeat it helped to solidify my knowledge.

"Alright. Is there anything else?" I was hoping the barrage of information was done and Christine's lips turned up in a sweet smile.

"I'm done for now." She reached over and stole a bite of my biscuit. "Do you like the soup?"

"It's very good." I was almost done the bowl and gave her a small tired grin. "Can you not tell?"

She laughed and cleared the hair from my forehead with gentle fingers. The gesture sobered me and we were locked in another searching stare. "Erik?" She had something else to say but the words stuck in her throat.

I was busy staring into her golden eyes. This is where I wanted to be. With Christine, my light, my love, my beautiful angel, she was all I ever wanted to dream of. If I had any chance to overcome the darkness inside me, I needed her with me more than anything else in this world.

"I love you." I whispered as my hand cupped her cheek.

"And I love you." Her fingers laced with mine and she nuzzled my palm. "Please, don't leave me again."

I wanted to give her assurance, but knew it would be an empty lie. "If it is within my power, I will never leave you again."

**Christine**

Erik and I curled in bed once he was done eating. We stared silently, now that my words had run dry, I gazed at the feeling infused in Erik's face. He was staring at me like I was his axis, his existence hinged on me. I watched his eyes slowly fall shut, but I somehow knew he was just tired. He was only sleeping and if I spoke to him he would wake now. This notion was further secured when I rose to clean up his tray of dishes and his lashes fluttered at my noise.

"Ss-sstine…" He didn't quite manage my whole name and I shushed at him.

"Go back to sleep, love. I am here." His lips tilted as he snuggled back into the pillow and I sighed in relief. Everything would be fine.

My peace lasted only a few minutes because as I was washing up Erik's dishes, a crash came from his room. I ran in to find him pressed against the wall, panting harshly, the small table turned over in front of him.

"What is it? Erik?" I approached him cautiously and his eyes looked panicked as they darted around the room.

"I…I…nothing…I was dreaming…" He shook his head and one hand darted through his hair over and over, pulling the wayward strands from his forehead in ruthless tugs. I reached his side and gently guided his hand down to take it between both of mine. He was trembling.

"A nightmare?" My brows curved as I tried to look more curious than worried.

He assessed my calm countenance and then nodded tersely. I wisely did not ask him for details about his dream. Instead, I stroked his hand for a silent moment before he spoke.

"I wonder if I should take some laudanum." He did not look up at me and kept his eyes on our joined hands. "The last time I took some was a few days before my seizure, and now I've slept for more…it may help me rest…efficiently."

I filled in the unsaid part. If he was drugged then he did not dream. "Shall I brew some valerian tea for you as well?"

"Please? Thank you." He once more struck me as infinitely fragile as he stood against the wall for support, his arm bound mercilessly to his chest. I left him to get back into bed himself. I did not want to crowd him or over mother him.

These dreams of his were becoming problematic. I felt terrible that I could do nothing to cure them. What did he dream of to react so violently? Perhaps I should have asked Nadir some more specific questions about their past. Did Erik always have these disconcerting dreams or was this something manifesting from his forgotten memories of his past? Nadir did mention things that Erik did not remember…

How much of his life was wiped away by his seizures? Is that where all his dreams were coming from? The dark corners of his mind where forgotten memories dwell?

I brought his tea and the bottle of laudanum and found him pacing slowly. As much as I wanted to reprimand him, I just couldn't find the heart to chastise him for doing the same thing I did when sitting still conjured too many thoughts.

"Could we unwrap my arm?" He asked nicely and I nodded and complied. When his naked chest was revealed I could not resist sliding my fingers down the center. He rolled his shoulder a few times and I moved on from ogling his stomach to check his shoulder.

"The swelling has gone down." I was happy to report.

"Was it very bad? It hurts only when I move back." I enjoyed any reason to have my hands on him and made a thorough exam of the shoulder joint and tear in his skin from all angles, with my hands never leaving his skin.

"It was badly swollen before, but I applied the paste and you do heal quickly, perhaps it has already partially healed?" I looked up with a hopeful expression and Erik was already staring down at me. He searched my face as his newly uncovered arm slid around my waist to gently pull me towards him. There was no reason on earth to resist and my palms flattened to his chest as his other hand weaved into my hair and cupped my skull. He held me against him with a soft sigh and rested his chin on my head.

"Thank you."

"What for?" I couldn't help a tiny giggle. Being in his full embrace with his body all against mine was a cosmic rush of unity beyond compare. My skin practically tingled with joy.

"For taking care of me."

"I am your wife, Erik." I let my hands feel some of his chest since I was his wife. "Of course I will always take care of you, just as you will always care for me."

"All the same, I wanted to thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

We pulled apart and I thought he looked much stronger without his arm bound. Perhaps it was only because now his taut chest and stomach were revealed. He poured some laudanum into his tea and sat on the bed. I sat beside him and rested my hand on his thigh. He blew on the tea for a minute, as he usually did. He liked to let it cool enough that he could swallow the entire cup in a few gulps.

"Where are my pants?" He asked suddenly and I stopped grazing my nails against his inner thigh.

"I left them off. I'm sorry. I can get them." I made to stand and Erik put his own hand on my thigh. Even through my nightgown, his palm sizzled with heat.

"No need. I was only wondering." His touch was often cool and this unusual heat made me worry he had a fever. I reasoned that sleep was as good a cure as any and he did just eat a whole bowl of my special garlic chicken soup. Once he drank his tea he would sleep the rest of this night and some of the morning. After a whole night of restful sleep he would be better.

**Erik **

Something woke me from my deep dreamless sleep. The laudanum had worn off and I lay in bed, waiting for another sound and when it came, I sat up much too quickly.

Christine was retching in my bathroom.

My body quarreled with what to do. I wanted to scoop her up and cuddle her to me to protect her, but my love alone could not protect her from everything, and my shoulder was throbbing from using the arm to sit up. I listened to the terrible sound of her stomach twisting mercilessly as my head spun with too much movement too soon. I lay back down as dizziness swam over me. She would come back to bed and tell me she was feeling unwell. Perhaps we could both just stay in bed all day.

I closed my eyes and waited for her. She was such an angel, so giving, loving and nurturing, that I thought it wholly unfair that she be struck down with an illness right at this point. Here she was caring for me and being a perfect little wife and this was her payment. Vomiting.

When she slid back into bed beside me, I waited for a moment and then rolled over and put my arms around her. She seemed startled.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" I stopped myself from saying anything and waited for her to tell me what was wrong. Her arms came around me and she rested her head on my chest as if waiting for something. With a giant sigh she finally relaxed into me.

"Will you hold me while I sleep a bit more?" she pleaded softly.

"Of course."

She obviously didn't want to worry me. A small part of me was angry, but I was too tired and sore to allow the anger to stick. Anger seemed to get me into trouble constantly. Better to give Christine the benefit of the doubt. She would let me know if she was worried. If she wasn't worried then why worry me? Especially in my state.

No matter how I convinced myself, I still listened to each breath that left her lungs, waiting to hear a rattle of congestion, an errant cough, or even a squeaky bowel. She slept peacefully on my chest for another hour before yawning and stretching to wrap her arms around my neck.

"Good morning." She pecked my lips and I searched her face. She seemed the picture of health as she sprang from bed with a twinkle in her eye and I began wondering if I'd imagined the sounds coming from my bathroom. Was that just another horrific dream?

I slid from bed and rubbed my hand over my face. My shoulder and back felt tender but the pain was minor. I was trying to figure out what day it was when Christine piped up.

"How do you feel? Truthfully now. No boasting." She tilted her head at me in scrutiny and I felt my eyebrow rising.

"Boasting?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "You would say you were fine even if you were bleeding from your ears."

"That only happens when Carlotta sings." I made a light joke and Christine beamed at me. My heart fluttered at the joy on her face. "I feel fine, Christine. Truly. I am sore, but otherwise fine."

Her eyes dropped to the ground in front of me as she bit her lip. "Fine enough to escort me to church?" she asked with a soft inflection.

Church... I was flooded with feelings so intense that I thought I would double over. Joseph Buquet. Christine's bleeding back, her whimpers and cries. My own hand whipping my back…

"Don't feel you must come today," she offered. "You and I could go another time?"

My patient, nurturing, loving wife wanted me to ask forgiveness for my glaring sins in the holy house of the Lord.

"Is it Sunday?" I swallowed through my tight throat. If a church congregation ever saw my wicked dreams…

"It is. I wanted to go and thought if you felt up for it then you could escort me instead of me going with Madame and Meg…" She trailed off and our eyes locked. I felt filled with disgust at my murderous past and I nodded passively.

"I will escort you. We can stop at Nadir's on the way back to say hello." She pressed forward eagerly and knelt before me.

"Can we stay in our home tonight, Erik? Please? I miss it so much."

I opened my mouth to say no, but then paused. Why not do all in my power to keep my angel happy? If I went mad and killed us both, at least the time we had together would have been good. No fighting and trying to hold her off me. If she wanted to love me, I would accept, though the thought of being intimate with her made me feel entirely unworthy. I was not sure what I would do if she began touching me and seeking physical completion. I loved her so much it physically hurt, but my carcass was unworthy of her splendor. She nuzzled her cheek to my knee and my hand trailed over her hair with immense regret and longing. I would do any and all she asked.

"Let me contact Bernard. Perhaps we can stay in our home." Christine clapped and rose with a brilliant smile.

"I will make us something to eat. Why don't you wash up and get dressed…or do you need my help?" She halted as she realized she may be asking too much of me.

"No. Go ahead and get ready yourself. I can take care of my clothing."

Her lips pressed in amusement but she left before telling me what she found so funny. I stood slowly and stretched out my back. With a few gentle twists I figured out my range of motion and then saw to my appearance. Christine must have bathed me herself because there was not a speck of dirt upon me. I washed my face and hands and combed my hair into place. The white mask was sitting on the nightstand, but as my heart picked up pace at thoughts of appearing in a public place, I decided to wear my very seldom worn flesh toned plaster. I'd painted it one day, thinking it would be better than white but the memory of Nadir's face when he saw it…

I chuckled to myself and then sobered quickly. Something was nagging me about Nadir. At the thought of him I was worried, and I was already worried enough about today. As soon as people see that I'm covering my face, their first reaction is to want to know why. It's only human nature. They will gather around me, taunting, poking, prodding, until one brave soul will reach for my mask...

I gritted me teeth together. Today would be different. Christine would be on my arm. My beautiful wife keeping the enemies at bay with her stunning joy.

Perhaps I was worrying too much. I tied my ascot and my arm protested. I finished the task and sought a piece of fabric to make a sling with. I would not allow my health to fail me in protecting Christine. The faster I healed, the better.

I would even allow her to slather me with that paste again. But perhaps later.

Christine was in the kitchen. Her hair was beautiful drawn up into an elegant coif, but she was still in her robe. My heart ached in my chest that this gorgeous caring creature was mine. I felt like a very greedy, but infinitely grateful ogre before she turned to let her eyes wander over me. Her eyes gave warmth to my skin like a balm for every pain and worry within me, and I was suddenly worthy. At least in her eyes.

"You look wonderful standing." She couldn't help the sound of her voice, tinged with the sadness of the last few days. She busied herself with the coffee, fruit and oatmeal, and placed bowls and cups for both of us on the table. "Shall I?" She held out her hand for the material and tied my arm up for me.

"Thank you," I intoned.

We sat and ate our modest breakfast and when Christine left to dress, I fetched my flesh toned mask from the laboratory. It felt uncomfortable over my face, more so than the white, but I pushed the feeling down. I would be plenty more uncomfortable once we were in church.

I wandered towards the front door, noting that my cloak was missing, and instead maneuvered into my overcoat. It covered the sling nicely, and if Christine would just tuck the empty arm somewhere…

I heard her skirts behind me and turned without thinking. Her hands shot out to fend me off and she stumbled back from me before putting her hand to her chest with a gasp.

"Erik! You scared the life out of me!"

I sheepishly covered the mask with one hand. "I apologize."

She came forward and took my hand away to peer at the new mask. "It's terrifying. It makes your face look distorted." I did not comment on the fact that my face WAS distorted.

"Nadir said it was an optical illusion caused by the colour. The mask appears to be flesh but it sticks out too far, making my face appear to bulge on the one side, and the lack of eyebrow looks comical…"

"You've never worn this one before." She was studying me, memorizing the new image of my face with darting golden eyes.

"I prefer the white one."

"Me too." She said with a smile, cupping my cheeks. "Your first love is always the strongest and it was my Maestro's face I first loved." Her own cheeks blushed, as the warmth of her love once more touched me, but she babbled on nervously. "This mask is awful, Erik." She efficiently began rolling and tucking in my empty sleeve without my asking. "It will make people stare more than your white one."

"Only if they actually look right at me, which I am hoping, they won't. The flesh tone makes me look normal from the corner of the eye, and I have had luck with it in a crowd. It should be enough. Do people go to church to worship or to be seen?"

Her face morphed in thought and she grabbed her woolen jacket, slipping it over the pretty dress herself since I could not very well help her. "Perhaps a bit of both," she laughed as she covered her hair with a shawl. "Are we ready?"

I took one deep breath, turned my every thought to Christine's happiness, and left for the bright God fearing world above.


	76. Faith

**Author's note: Just wanted to say thanks for all the reviews. Makes me feel my story hasn't been forgotten.**

**I barely made my self imposed deadline...but here it is! I HAD to make the deadline since I swore over Erik's sacred body :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Erik**

I felt as if my body and mind were separated by a vast expanse. My body flagged a brougham and helped Christine in, but none of it felt entirely real. Noises buzzed around me and I heard nothing. Currently I was sitting next to a vision of loveliness as we bumped down the road to church, but my mind was wholly distracted as I stared past her out the window. Those terrible dreams kept replaying in my mind, a steady stream of evil to punish me with remembrance, as if they had been locked away before and now finally were set free to torture me. Women died at my hand?

The blood, gore and darkness swirled in my head until I saw nothing but the vivid images in my mind. Were the dreams all real moments in my life? Memories forgotten?

I thought of the swarm of faces of those I'd slaughtered and it disturbed me greatly that there were now feminine profiles in that crowd. How did I ever forget such a monstrosity? How could I possibly forget it again and put it from my head?

"Erik?" Christine's sweetness pierced through my dark memories like a ray of sunlight. I turned to look at her but my eyes were unfocused. I blinked a few times and tried to bring her pretty face into focus but it was as if my body would not let me.

Hers was a face in that crowd…

"My love?" Her gloved hand cupped my bare cheek in concern and my lashes fluttered in relief. She held the strings to my heart and I thankfully would forever be under her control. "I should not have pushed you to bring me today." Her sweet voice was sad enough that my sight finally zeroed in on her sorrowfully pinched face. "You are only just recovering and I am terribly selfish." She looked down as if ashamed.

"You are not selfish. I told you I am fine." Even my voice sounded distant and I wondered if Christine could hear it too. Her eyes rose to lock with mine, searching for my pain, searching for a way to heal me, until it was my turn to drop my gaze down. I was a demon in disguise and she was such an angel.

"Still, you only just woke and I forced you out of bed…" I couldn't listen to her love me.

I slid my good arm around her to yank her against me a little harder than necessary. Her hands came up to clutch me tightly as she buried her face in my neck and I suddenly realized I wasn't the only one who needed some comfort. "Hush, now. Since when am I the type to laze in bed. Stop fretting, pet."

A few warm tears soaked into my collar and I held my darling angel as she released her pent up fears. "Oh, Erik. I love you so," she sobbed pitifully. "How can I ever live without you?" It pained me to know she had despaired while I lay unconscious. I was to keep her safe and protected, not abandon her due to my weak disposition. I gritted my teeth and swore Christine would feel secure again.

She controlled her emotions and gave me a wavering smile. I concentrated all my thoughts and actions on Christine and made it from the carriage and up the church's stairs before thinking too much about what I was doing. Christine was my focal point and I rotated around her, pulled to her light and her smile. Minister Elofson extended his hands as we reached the doors to the holy sanctuary. He was clearly surprised to see us, but gracious and kind as always, making no comment on my strange mask. He spoke softly with Christine as my gaze finally darted over the bright entrance to God's house. My heart was racing at the prospect of entering for forgiveness. Marrying Christine here had been logical and necessary, but this visit was different. I was entering as a supplicant, the lowest life form on the earth, a sinner coming for a cleansing of the soul as only the Lord could give.

Suddenly Christine was tugging me gently along and I followed meekly. This was for her. It was all for her.

There were already plenty of people in the pews and my eyes began to blur with the sheer enormity of why I was here. Thankfully, Christine pulled me into the closest pew, the last pew, to sit with her. She was a clever, observant girl. She patted my hand reassuringly and leaned to whisper in my ear.

"Relax, Erik. God is here if you wish to speak to him." She settled back into a comfortable position with my hand in a nest of hers. I sort of wanted my hand since it was my only one at the moment, but I took a deep breath and decided Christine could keep it for now. If it made her feel better to hold onto me then I could allow her. This was for her. It was all for her…

My eyes wandered over the interior of the church. People held little interest for me and instead I inspected every corner of the vaulted ceiling, stained glass and altar area. I found it disturbing that I had been here before and yet not taken the time to look at how well built and beautiful the building was. I felt myself relaxing even though more people were piling into the seating area. No one came to sit beside us. Families with children and young girls, giggling hand in hand, old couples with linked arms and young couples with stars in their eyes. When I realized I was watching the people I turned my attention to the pew ahead of me. There was a bible for our use and envelopes to make a donation in God's name. I inwardly cringed when I spied the choral book, remembering the terrible singing at our wedding.

"Good morning, everyone." Minister Elofson addressed his congregation and the service began. I tried to pay attention, for Christine's sake, but my mind drifted from the minister's soothing voice to the sole reason for my appearance here today. I was supposed to ask forgiveness for murder. And perhaps all my other sins as well.

I have committed many murders…

Murderer. Not only of men who were threating my life, but even more, apparently forgotten by my sickened mind. Was it murder if you could not remember the crime? Was it still considered murder if the assailant was bearing an ax at your head? And why exactly did I fight so hard to continue living by that point? I was not entirely sure why I would want to continue on, but that was not the issue here. The issue was my soul mate's faith and the fact that I have now committed a thoughtless unnecessary murder. I brought the image of Joseph Buquet to mind and felt no remorse for my actions. Would the Lord forgive the deformed monster who did not regret his sin?

I killed a man in cold blood. Did I not care that his wife was left alone? Did I not care that Christine could be left alone if Voisard ever found evidence of my involvement? I heaved a tremendous sigh and Christine's grip on me tightened.

This was for her. My _life_ was for her.

I closed my eyes and searched myself for some regret. I did regret that the whole debacle happened. But it was Joseph who had been in the wrong. What the blazes had he been doing behind Christine's mirror? He could have opened it and raped her if he so intended. How many times had he pleasured himself at her image? When would his hand not be enough?

I was thankful that I ended his life. Thankful that he would never set eyes on Christine again. Thankful that he would never again find completion with my wife in mind.

This was not the way to go about asking forgiveness.

Was I even sorry he was dead? I did feel guilty for my lack of control over my urges. But my soul, my very core, had screamed in rage at the sight of him so close to Christine and within seconds he was dead. It was barely enough time to blink let alone choose between life and death. Could I have stopped myself? Would that have been wise? I would have had to hypnotize him to make him forget the tunnel and mirror and my wife. How many men was I going to hypnotize into forgetting Christine just so she could remain solely mine?

I glanced over at my angel, still awed that we were together, and her golden eyes met mine. She smiled and my heart melted with warmth, a sure sign that I indeed was hers, body and soul.

Try harder, ingrate!

I closed my eyes and appealed to the sense of God that hovered in this holy place. Can I explain away my actions? Can they be forgiven if I do not entirely regret them? Christine is my main concern and if I feel a threat to her then that is what I will act on as her protector and husband. I cannot hold myself to religious dictates if my wife's well-being is threatened…

Silence reigned in my mind and I understood.

No matter that I belonged to an angel, I still would receive no redemption. Christine and I would only have this time, here and now, and I would surely be abandoned to the gates of hell in the afterlife.

The congregation stood and we stood, they sat and we sat, they spoke the sacred words and Christine followed suit. It was difficult to feel like anything but a spectator to their faith, an outsider mistakenly given entrance. I did not feel forgiven as the sermon continued, but then I did not outright ask forgiveness, for I felt no remorse. I felt justified in Buquet's death.

I did not belong here.

There would be no forgiveness for me. If I could not feel as I should about a murder that never should have happened then God would _not_ look upon me with kindness in his heart…

A small child a few pews ahead of us turned around and caught sight of me. I waited for his fear to send him spinning back around, but the little boy only stared at me. He did not look frightened as his bright blue eyes fully roamed over my strange face. His blond head tilted to one side as if to figure out my features. Then he stuck out his tongue. I raised my eyebrow at him and gave him my sternest look, but the child only smiled and stuck out his tongue again, this time crossing his eyes.

His face contorted a few different ways before his mother spied his inattention and turned him back around. He sat nicely for a moment, but looked over his shoulder one last time to make a silly face and wink at me.

As inappropriate and undeserving as it felt for a man such as myself, a tiny smile curled one corner of my mouth, and here within the colourful walls of God's house, my heart was lightened.

**Christine**

On our way up the church's steps I felt as if my face would crack with how huge my smile was. I was so proud of Erik, and I was proud of myself. We were together. He was awake and moving well. He was coming to church. Everything was going to be just fine. Everything would be wonderful.

Once we were sitting he glanced at me and I could see how nervous he was. I brought his hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to his gloved fingers. There were many people in the church but Erik had been correct. No one took notice of his strange bulging face. The flesh coloured mask was awful to look at. At least the white one looked like a mask, a sophisticated, theatrical way to cover his sunken cheek. This mask made his brow appear to bulge on the one side, with no eyebrow to complement, and his entire face looked lopsided.

I kept sneaking little glances at my husband, trying to discern his state of mind. He was distant from me this morning and though I could understand his need for some introspection, I felt abandoned. It was selfish and horrid of me to feel such a thing, but I wanted my loving Erik back. I wanted him to gaze at me with that adoration in his eyes. I wanted to share with him my speculation on my body's current status. I wanted to hear him play his mind numbing music so I could lose myself in the notes. I wanted to press our naked bodies together and feel the pulse pounding rhythms that only our love created.

My face flushed deeply to be thinking such carnal thoughts in the house of the Lord. What was wrong with me? How dare I tarnish this holy house with my sordid thoughts?

I began to ignore the service, which perhaps was just as bad, and spoke to the Lord privately and silently in my head.

Lord, I need your guidance. I have depended on you, as always, to help me through the trials of my life and I need you again to see me through this trial. My husband grows distant and I want nothing more than to be close to him. Grant me the strength to overcome the barriers Erik is putting up between us. Grant me the eloquence to speak to my husband about the matters that need discussing. Grant me the patience to wait until Erik is ready to speak to me. Grant me the will to overcome my desire for him and help me to focus on his mental health. I want only to be there for Erik and be the wife he deserves. Help me be a stronger person. Help me help him. He needs your holy power to show him he is not alone. I thank you immensely for bringing him back to health. I know only you possess such power. Keep Erik safe from the dark corners of his mind. Keep my body safe if it indeed holds a child within. Help me become a good mother for our unborn child. Help me be a noble person, unwavering in my faith and belief. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

I looked up from my clasped hands to find Erik watching me. Minister Elofson was still speaking but his voice was not enough to pull me from the lure of my husband's eyes. Erik slid his hand over both of mine and squeezed lightly. I wasn't sure what he was trying to tell me but I liked the look of his eyes. They seemed lighter somehow, less burdened by shadow. Perhaps it was only the colourful light streaming into the church from the stained glass, but I thought Erik looked happier for a moment.

The congregation stood, but I remained sitting with my husband. We were having our own silent communion and did not need to follow the restrictions of the service. Out of tune singing erupted into the silence, and as I gazed into Erik's soul I saw the lightness leave his eyes. He was very troubled and unsure, and I could see that he was thinking he did not deserve me. My heart swelled to shelter him with my love and I leaned close to offer what I could. As our shoulders touched, Erik's eyes flicked away from me and I wanted to grab his chin to force him to acknowledge my steadfast devotion.

There was physical pain in my chest as my soul cried out, do not turn from me! I am your salvation!

He slowly came back and my loving gaze was right where he had left it, waiting for his return. He looked disbelieving, but grateful, and I smiled at my naïve husband. He did not yet understand the bond between us though he often spoke of it. Perhaps he thought every couple shared the magic that we shared, but I knew things were not so. God only granted such love to a deserving few and we needed to honour that love, so I told him.

"I love you," I whispered into the air between us. His brow furrowed and he broke our gaze again.

"Why?" He was despairing and the congregation was taking their seats as Minister Elofson said the closing prayers. "How?" I rested my head on Erik's shoulder, content to be close in body if not in mind, and began gathering my thoughts to thoroughly answer his questions when I would be able.

**Erik**

We left the church the same way we did on our wedding day, first in line. Unfortunately, I had neglected to tell the brougham driver to wait for us and therefore we were without transport. I hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, wondering how long we would have to wait before a driver came along, when I heard someone calling to Christine.

"Madame Karan! Madame Karan!" We both looked over at the young couple making their way to us. They were beaming at my wife with full recognition and I kept my face turned sideways to obscure the mask.

"Have we met?" Christine smiled perfectly as they took her hands.

"No. No, but we heard you sing at the Garnier."

"You are magnificent."

"And we were at your wedding."

"Imagine our surprise…"

"I am Guy Delacroix. This is my wife Nicolette."

"I'm so pleased to meet you!" Nicolette squealed and I could not help turning to look at her as her voice soared to ear splitting range. Her eyes flicked to my face and she suddenly jerked closer to her husband at the same time as I pulled Christine closer to me.

There was a breathless pause where I thought the woman would scream, but Christine glossed over it by misinterpreting my actions and turning to hug me lightly. "This is my husband Erik, but you already knew that since you were in attendance for our wedding."

The couple was now staring at me warily, but Christine continued with a laugh, as if nothing was wrong. "I am very pleased to meet you. I love to meet my audience. Erik and I have worked so hard on my voice that it always feels like we have achieved our goal when I hear that I was…magnificent." Christine demurred on the last word, but the Delacroixs were staring openly at my strange face. I decided to confront them.

"Do pardon the mask. There was an unfortunate accident on my work site and the skin beneath is very raw and tender. The mask is a great deal easier to look at, then my face at the moment." They both relaxed at my explanation and finally Christine noticed their hesitation. She firmly took my arm and placed herself half in front of me, as if standing off with the young couple. I was quite certain she was now glaring at them, but I could not see her expression from where I was.

"Forgive our rudeness." The man nodded apologetically at me, his eyes showing that he truly meant what he said. "You would think we would be used to such eccentricities being among the Parisian society." His wife laughed and launched into a tale about a woman who wore a mask for a few months and everyone thought it was to be eccentric, but when the mask finally came off it was revealed that she had scars from sores on her face.

"That is awful." Christine was a little shocked by Nicolette's disturbing story, but a carriage pulled up next to us and any further conversation was held in cue.

"Ah, there's our driver." Guy Delacroix began to turn away but caught himself politely. "Can we give you a lift somewhere? It's no trouble at all, really. My ulterior motive is to speak with you further but my wife will probably blather the entire time."

"Guy!" She swatted at him and we witnessed a sweet moment of their eyes entwined before Christine turned to me. Her eyes asked the question and for some compelling reason, I gave a nod. This carriage was as good as any, would get us off the street, and the couple seemed nice enough to endure for a few minutes.

"That is very kind of you." I nodded politely to the man.

"Where are you headed?"

"It's not far." I gave the description of Nadir's location and suddenly Guy began to laugh.

"Well, we were certainly meant to accost you today. That is precisely where we are headed!"

**Christine **

Once we ascended the carriage and got on our way, Erik got over his shock and asked Guy why he was headed to his father's home. I was also curious as to why they were headed to Nadir's house, so I listened.

"Simple, I assure you," Guy explained. "My elder brother is his doctor. He made a house call this morning and we promised to pick him up on our way home."

I glanced at Erik, who did not look happy to hear that Nadir required a doctor, but he also looked as if he had confirmed a suspicion of his. I decided to try to change the subject to save Erik from having to make any more conversation.

"Nicolette, do tell me, where did you purchase your pretty hat?" It was quite easy to keep up a light discussion about fashion and couture, but I admit to not caring particularly. My mind was on Erik. He did not need any more stress. I hoped this was a routine house call and not anything serious.

While conversing I discovered that Nicolette was the same age as me and her and Guy had married last year. I smiled politely, but in the back of my mind I could find no comparisons between Nicolette and myself. She seemed far younger in maturity than I, but then both her parents still lived and she looked to have come from an affluent family. She had never been broken or alone.

Her husband Guy was speaking with Erik about houses and I breathed a sigh of relief. Erik seemed to be relaxed and if not charming, at least he was engaged.

**Nadir**

I did not enjoy feeling like an invalid. What man would? But I could no longer ignore the deterioration of my body. Movement was becoming increasingly painful and difficult if I was still for any amount of time, and my breathing and heartbeat had recently become laboured and slow, respectively.

I was more than willing to just accept that it was my time and lay in bed waiting for death, but thoughts of Erik made me call on the doctor. Knowing Erik as I did, he would make it his mission to heal me so I tried to get a jump on him. Perhaps if he saw that I was trying to live, he would not go overboard in his methods of finding a cure. He had Christine to care for and did not need this old man taking up his time.

My doctor, Evrard Delacroix, came highly recommended as a young and brilliant physician. I was hoping his efforts would subdue any overtures from Erik. So far, the young man had impressed me very much. He reminded me of Erik in a way. His quiet confidence in himself made him hold his shoulders in just such a way, and though Erik did not display the level of arrogance M. Delacroix was currently oozing, I found him to be knowledgeable, polite and to the point, exactly like my son.

The visit would have been perfect if only Erik and Christine had come a little later.

Evrard was just putting his instruments back into his case when Erik strode in like a storm.

"You are ill?" He asked without any preamble or introduction and I inwardly sighed as Evrard straightened in surprise to greet Erik.

"Erik, this is my physician I was telling you about, Evrard Delacroix. This is my son." Erik nodded in greeting but had no time for being courteous. He began his own check of my health, while Evrard sort of gawked. Perhaps it was our differing skin colour, perhaps it was Erik's lack of manners, perhaps it was Erik's obvious skill. Or it might have been the awful flesh toned mask on his face.

"Is it your knees or your heart that trouble you?" Erik scrutinized my eyes with one hand tilting my face to the light and then picked up my wrist, crouching to hold it with his slinged hand as he popped out his pocket watch to check my pulse I suppose.

"Evrard has already done all of this, Erik. Please, calm yourself. I am healthy, just old. Isn't that right, doctor?"

"Yes." Evrard responded to the prompt but was busy taking in every aspect of Erik's personage. His sling and mask seemed to hold much interest for the young doctor. "Mostly his symptoms are due to aging."

"Mostly?" Erik did not miss his choice of words, and turned to Evrard as if to I obtain the information by physical force. I rolled my eyes.

"Let the young man leave, Erik, and I will tell you all he revealed to me."

Erik seemed to catch himself finally and looked to the doorway of the room.

"Yes, you should go. Your brother is waiting." He was being downright rude.

"Guy is here?" Evrard quickly picked up his case and hat and Erik watched the doctor carefully as he maneuvered himself in front of me. My view of Evrard was completely blocked and it really was not important enough to make the effort to stand up.

"Thank you for making the house call." I called out from around Erik's protective stance, and Evrard turned to tip his hat at the doorway, surprised to see Erik blocking me as he was.

"Good day, Monsieur Karan. Monsieur Karan." He nodded to Erik as well and then made haste.

"Was that truly necessary?" I asked while trying not to laugh at Erik's over protectiveness.

"I did not like the look of him."

"I didn't notice you actually took a moment to look at him."

Erik turned with a scowl. "Why did you not mention you were feeling ill? I had my suspicions, but I would prefer if you would tell me these things straight out."

"I should have been honest. Forgive me for that." I admitted with chagrin and Erik's face and eyes went still.

"Honest…" He staggered two steps and seemed to collapse into a chair. He looked a little dizzy as I sat up straight.

"Erik? Are you alright? Erik?" I was about to jump up and hobble my aching body down the hall to call Evrard back when Erik shook himself free from his daze.

"I am fine. Just tired."

"You look more than tired. I wish you would speak to Evrard, he really is a fine physician."

"I am fine." He answered stubbornly.

"Where is Christine?" I changed the subject as I studied him worriedly.

"Right here." She came into the room like a breath of fresh air, a ray of sun, the glow of moonbeam. I saw the effect she had on Erik, the straightening of his spine, but also the softening of his face. She approached me to plant a kiss on my old cheek and I couldn't help blushing slightly. She was so loving that it made one feel truly unique and special when in her presence. She soothed a hand over Erik's hair and kissed his forehead, while Erik's eyes closed in bliss.

My son was a lucky man.

**Erik**

We stayed to visit with Nadir and I made sure to find out every detail the doctor had told him. His knees were weak, his heart was weak, his body was weak. If he was lucky he would retain use of his legs, if not he may wind up in a wheelchair. I made a mental note to begin searching for some remedy to strengthen the knee joints. I should have already been searching for Cameron since I promised Meghan I would, but now I had double the reason to find a cure.

Bernard showed up with two trusted men to help carry our bed into our bedroom, since I couldn't very well help with my shoulder the way it was. The process was quick and he was looking all around the interior to see how I was faring with this build. I could see the frank interest in his eyes and he shook my hand as he left, saying he missed me on site and was hoping for my healthy return. He held Christine's hand momentarily and reminded us we had promised to come visit to meet his wife Emily. Christine assured him we had not forgotten and would make sure to visit soon, she was looking forward to seeing his children and as soon as I was healed we would make ourselves available.

He smirked at me as he left and I had difficulty deciphering the meaning, but then my entire day had been physically taxing and I couldn't be bothered to figure out what was amusing Bernard.

We moved the table and chairs in the kitchen to a more favorable position and made our way upstairs for bed. I was tired and I think Christine could tell so even though it was not particularly late, there was nothing else I wanted to do but go to sleep. Christine began to remake our bed and I knelt to start a small fire.

As I turned from starting the fire, Christine was standing behind me. Her eyes were heavy with thought and she did not have to say a word, I understood she was about to reveal something important.

"You asked me earlier today why I loved you and how I could love you. I was unable to answer properly then but I want you to listen now and hear the words from my heart." Her eyes were lush in the low light and I felt mesmerized by my beautiful wife. "Commit these words to your memory so you may recall them when you need reassurance." She bowed her head and put a hand to her heart. "The answer can be elusive when you ask why someone loves another. I feel I have always loved you and the reasons no longer matter. Only the emotion ties me to you. I had to think back and remember the reasons I fell in love with you. Your grace, your intelligence, your kindness, these are all things that first turned my head towards you. Then you welcomed me to your home, and in opening your home to me you opened your heart. You took care of me and showed me the lonely man beneath my Maestro. When you first played for me…" She closed her eyes here as if to better recall. "Erik, my husband, you told me once that we are one, and every fibre of my being believes. I have felt the joining of our souls so many times now that it hurts me that you would ever question our love. Every time we create music, I feel our souls unite. Every time we make love, our souls unite. If that is not a sign of the purest most sacred love on this earth, then I am not sure what love is."

I had nothing to say. My mouth was open in disbelief and Christine pressed forward with a determined gleam in her eye.

"But I _do_ know what love is because I have been blessed with a powerful love. A love that blinds me to all else. A love that fills my body with strength and weakness. A love that knows no boundaries. You ask how I can love you. But I ask how can I not love you? I was meant to love you. I was created to love you. Anything less and I would crumble to dust and blow away on a cold wind of failure. God sent me to you to save you from your solitude. Just as he sent you to me to save me from despair."

She was so close to me now that I could not help lifting my hand to cup her cheek.

"Forgive me," I whispered, unable to say anything more.

Her hands bracketed my bare face and she smiled. "I forgive you everything."

The demons within me tried to scream that I was unworthy, that I did not deserve such devotion, but I silenced them by remaining in her steady golden gaze.

"Forgive me for questioning…for hurting you…for…" Her fingers touched my lips.

"I have already said I forgive you everything. Can we step forward together hand in hand and heart to heart and leave the past behind us?" Her serene eyes and calm smile warmed me through, and I desperately wanted to tell her we could. When she looked at me like this I felt that anything was possible, but my disturbing dreams flooded my mind and kept me from saying anything. How could I leave the past behind me when it seemed bent on never letting me go?

She sensed that I would not speak and her smile dimmed as her hands dropped to her sides with a defeated air.

"You are not alone anymore, Erik." Her posture may have looked defeated but her eyes burned me with their conviction. "I am here and will always be here by your side to comfort and guide you. Please never forget that, and never again question the depth of my love for you. It is beyond anything that I expected in life." Her eyes drifted to the dark window and I followed her gaze. "And I would die without you." She confessed and I shivered at the acceptance in her voice. "Of that…I feel certain."

"Christine…?" My throat choked on her name and she turned back.

"I tell you this so you are aware of the choices you make and how they affect me." She looked a little angry now. "When you push me away I know you do it for some twisted need to punish yourself, but you are punishing me and hurting me more deeply then you can fathom. My heart bleeds when you distance yourself and I break apart on the inside where no one can see, but I feel it like a chasm within me..." Her fist pressed to her chest and she dragged in an unsteady breath. "The only thing that will heal me is you. I want nothing else in this entire world then to be in your sight and in your arms. But you..." Her face contorted briefly and she changed what she was going to say as her hands spread as if to offer herself. "I am your wife! I have sworn myself to you. Our souls are one. I wish you would accept that I am here in front of you. I will never leave you. But I will not push you." Her hands dropped again and she sighed. "I'm going to have a bath."

She moved slowly into the bathroom, leaving the door open, and I heard the water running. I stayed rooted to the spot and listened to the splash of water as it echoed inside my brain with all the words my beautiful angel had spoken to me.

Forgiveness. Acceptance. Love. For always.

I heard the robe leave her body and the water being displaced as she climbed in. I heard her heave a tremendous sigh as I imagined her sliding her body into the heated water. She sniffed delicately a few times and my heart quaked that I was still hurting her. I should go to her! Tell her I am a fool for pushing her away. I only want to be lost in her love, but…

But there is too much going on. I must stay sharp and focused. Things were beginning to spin out of control and I needed to keep a tight rein on everything to ensure I was never caught. I am a cold hearted murderer, with psychotic murderous dreams…but I have a beautiful angel of a wife to care for.

**Meg**

Maman was fussing over me while I was trying to get ready for dinner with Cameron. We were going out to be 'seen' together and Maman was going overboard with my hair.

"Does it need to be so high? I look like Carlotta." I pouted as she folded in the ends and smeared some grease over the curves to give the bouffant that smooth perfect exterior.

"You will be a Countess soon. You must look the part." She was driving me insane with all the advice she was giving me, and I still had not started my menses. I blocked out my mother's voice and tried to search inward and feel if my body was different. My breasts did feel swollen but then if my menses was starting they would feel that way anyway.

I had yet to tell Cameron of what I suspected. I was worried I was wrong and he would be disappointed. But then, we were to be married anyway. He said the heir did not matter as much as having me in his life. I wished I could believe him.

I was so in love with Cameron that I felt like crying over my weakness. I was supposed to have the upper hand. I was supposed to be wrapping him around my finger, not the other way around. And yet, he had taken full control of me. I was helpless to those dark chocolate eyes and that smart, supple mouth. His hands were heavenly on my body and I was so entranced with all that was Cameron that I didn't even care about dancing anymore. Cameron was my dance now. Cameron was where I could let go of fears and inhibitions and just feel.

I sighed sadly and Maman touched me lightly.

"What troubles you my darling?"

"I don't know…" I looked down and Maman understood. She knelt by my side and stared into my face.

"You have fallen in love with him. You love him more than you ever thought you could love." She seemed to pity me and I scowled at her.

"What do you know about love?" It was ungracious and horrid of me but it was easier to be angry at my mother then to despair over how I had lost myself completely to a man.

"It was how I felt for your father. No other man could ever compare." I was shocked by her honest admition. I thought my mother was cold as stone. "It is...a frightening feeling to love someone so much, but you will adapt." She looked proud of me for a moment and I took comfort in my mother's gaze. "I hope he can give you a child because the feelings of awe and joy a child brings, are the only equal you will ever feel to how he makes you feel."

"Oh Maman…" I choked up and slid off my stool to hug her. "Je t'aime."

**Erik**

How does one _sleep_ next to a siren?

She smelled delicious from her bath. The heady scent of roses with a light underlying scent of lemon was driving me to distraction as I attempted to decipher if it was a new soap or a new lotion, or a combination of her old and new. The satin nightgown she wore glowed in the dark night as she fussed and pushed the sheets and blanket half off. Her hair was springy and down, covering everything, piled everywhere. She was usually quite diligent about tucking her hair away at night and that could only mean she had left it down for me. I longed to bury my face in her tresses and run my hands along the silky outline of her body. She would come to me. If I reached for her, she would come willingly…

I rolled from the blankets and stood to pace away from the bed. When I reached the wall I turned to lean against the solid surface for support. The shadows of the room appeared red, like blood in shadowed light, oozing into every crevice. I pressed my fists into my eyes and looked again, trying to avoid the blood, but my eyes easily ignored all else and focused on Christine and her light.

She called to me, even in her sleep. In her arms I would find peace. Why was I fighting this?

She glowed like a fairy or some sort of angel. Her hip rounded up into the air, clearly defined beneath the sheets. Her hair was tumbled over the pillow, begging for my touch, and my hands twitched to slide through it as my body ached to mold to hers. I dropped my head into trembling hands and gripped my hair with tight fists.

_Why are you fighting this?_

I am evil!

_You swore to stay away from her! _

**Leave her be!**

Her soft sigh penetrated my inner demons and my eyes leapt back to her face. She was rolling over in bed and reaching for me, but only grabbed my pillow. I stared with burning eyes at the smooth slope of her cheek, her jaw, neck and shoulder. I was close to the bed suddenly. My hand rose of its own volition and hovered over her.

Just a touch. Just one gentle touch…

I grabbed at my own hand and swiftly marched out the door and through the unfinished house, a sure sign of my inadequacies, down the stairs to the door that had no door knob at the bottom of the stairs. I shifted the proper piece of wood and the siding slid away to reveal another staircase. I followed it down into darkness and the cool air wafted over my burning flesh.

The room was dark and comforting and as my fingers clenched, the sound of cracking knuckles echoed around me. I dropped to my knees and slammed my fist to the ground, annoyed with my weakness.

Dark thoughts were there, beating at my skull, blood, death, hell; but for some reason, the most potent thought was of Christine's body. I wanted to use her in every fashion I could think of. I wanted to make her moan until the only sound in my head was her pleasured cries. Until the only image I saw was her undulating body beneath mine, her golden eyes alight with passion.

I was trembling all over and cursed my inability to control the demons inside me. Would I have another goddamned seizure?

I started to breathe in slow even intervals and managed to turn my mind to more important things than Christine's lush curves. Succumbing to illness was unacceptable. I was stronger than this. I had to be stronger than this. Christine needed me.

The trembling slowed but would not abate, and I slid my arms around my torso as if to stem the shaking by physical force. Perhaps speaking to Nadir's doctor would be a good idea.

I tried to calm my frenzied mind as my core shivered for some sort of release. Was it so bad to want my wife? Was I not supposed to desire her?

I knew it was no sin to desire her body, but what felt sinful was my reason for using her. She would be a conduit to a better frame of mind, instead of me making love to her, I only wanted to fuck her to find my release.

A low growl escaped me as I clenched my eyes shut. Stop thinking about her!

It was impossible. My mind was full of my wife. Better her than memories and dreams, but it did nothing to slow my shaking. I was like an addict, shaking with need for my chosen narcotic.

I wanted her body beneath me, her cries in my ears, her arms around me…

**Christine**

I turned over in bed and knew that Erik was no longer laying with me. How could I sleep when I was so worried for him, for us?

I sighed and propped myself up on one elbow to survey the room. Sleep would remain elusive while my thoughts were so consumed with my husband and I decided on the only possible course of action.

I rose from bed and went in search of him. He was creating this distance between us and I did not want it to continue. There was no need for him to keep himself away from me. I thought I had made that perfectly clear earlier but Erik was so stubborn I may just have to beat him over the head with my acceptance.

For the man who once said we were one and nothing could ever come between us, he was doing a fine job of creating a wall between us.

No more. This was going to end tonight. I was tired of putting on a brave smile when he acted coldly to me. There was no reason for him to be cold. I accepted that he had killed a man. I accepted it before, why would now be any different? I forgave him, and was even sort of glad that Buquet was dead, which caused me my own grief and worry but that was something I would talk to the Lord about.

Tonight I was going to force Erik to accept my love. I promised him I wouldn't push him, and perhaps this was not the best idea, but I would rather he become angry with me then ignore me.

First I checked the kitchen, but it was dark and empty. I wrapped my arms about my torso, wondering if I should have put on more than my knee length silky night gown. Deciding it did not matter, I continued down the hallway. I smiled at my beautiful house and was about to enter the music room when the open panel stole my attention. I knew there was a wall there before and its disappearance could only mean that I would find my husband down below. The stairs were dark and no light emanated from beneath the house. It smelled like damp earth and I thought about calling to him but pushed aside my reservations and started down the stairs.

At the bottom, I gave myself a moment to let my eyes adjust to the blackness around me. I could hear harsh muted breathing and tears stung my eyes.

Be strong for him you foolish girl!

As soon as I could make out the shape on the dirt floor, I went to him. He was clutching his body as if he was collapsing upon himself and it was the simplest thing in the world to fall to my knees behind him and press my cheek to his spine.

He was shaking as I slid my arms around and over his, but I heard a half sob leave his mouth at my touch. It was part grateful and part wounded and I nuzzled into him, channeling every drop of love I could. His shaking seemed to subside and he dragged in a ragged breath.

"Can you read my mind now?" He bewilderedly asked. "Do you see my thoughts?" I did not know what to say to his confusing questions so I only continued to hold him. His breath shuddered and he clutched at my arms, pulling me even tighter to him. "I think I'm going mad," he rasped and I had to comment.

"No, you are not." He jolted like he was not expecting me to speak and then scrambled away from me. I fell forward as he wrenched himself away, but I quickly recovered and tossed my hair over my shoulder to find him in the darkness.

"You…are here…Christine…?" His voice was not at all like usual, so small and trembly in the cellar beneath our house.

"It's me, Erik. I am here, just like I promised." I reached out to his huddled form. "Please. You need me."

He clutched his head between his hands. "Yes. Yes I do." He was strangled and almost in tears.

I bit my lip to keep from crying and crawled to him, heedless of the dirt. "And I need you. And I _need_ to help you. I love you, my husband, and seeing you in distress pains me." My hands alighted on his shoulders and he slowly peeled his fingers from his face to glance at me. "Let me in," I begged shamelessly as I knelt before him. "Let me help you."

He relaxed ever so slightly as our eyes communed in the darkness. I couldn't even see the gleam of his eyes but I knew he was staring into mine. I could feel the weight of his gaze, the weight of his conscious soul pressing upon me. His fingers trembled as he touched my elbows and ran his fingertips up my arms. He grazed my ribs and hips with a touch that was barely there. I tried not to move or breathe, to give him all the time he needed, while he slowly and hesitantly reached out to me.

His arms snaked around me and his hands slid up my back under my hair. A muffled groan left his mouth and I shifted higher on my knees to bring myself closer between his legs and he instantly pulled me in, pressing his face to my bosom as he hugged me tight. I held him in place as we both shuddered with heightened emotion.

"I do need you." He moaned. "I thought I could be strong. I thought it would help...but I cannot..." He was panting hotly against me and I cleared the hair from his brow to press kisses to his forehead.

He laughed in a strange crying sort of way. "Your kiss…it feels like a blessing upon my brow…"

"It is." I whispered into his hair and I did not imagine that he held me even tighter. "My love for you is a blessing, just as your love for me is a blessing. Do not tarnish the gift we have been given by turning away from it. Revel in it. Rejoice in it. Turn to it at every moment that you need to. I will always be here to offer my love. It will never diminish and I will never leave you, Erik."

I finally felt I was getting through to him as he held me in his vise like grip. My hold on him was equally as strong as I tried to magnify my thoughts and words through my touch. You are mine. Mine to cherish, mine to hold, mine to love and keep.

Until death do us part.


End file.
